“Not a line, not a word!” said Lady Forwood, becoming serious. “Whose fault can it be? If the servants——” “Whatever fault there is in the matter is mine, and mine only,” said Hugh, reckless with a feeling which was half delirious joy, half despair. “But do you think, when the princess’ name has been taken in vain like this, that they will come?” “Come?” Lady Forwood looked blank surprise with her beautiful blue eyes. “You don’t mean to say you have not asked _her_?” she cried. “I had hoped _you_ would arrange it with her,” he said in desperation. “I thought—I fancied—the change and the quiet might be good for her, so I was having the place done up.” “I think myself I should have made sure of the birds before I got the cage ready,” said Lady Forwood, demurely (although her inward comment was an amused “It is really high time the poor man had a woman to look after him”). “However, you know, you and I are old friends, as friends go now-a-days, and I should so much enjoy invading you in your Surrey hermitage, that I will undertake to make it all right with the Andriocchis. Only tell me exactly _when_ you want us.” “You saw—next month,” said Hugh, half-savagely. He would investigate the affair of the paragraph. He would find out whose hand had precipitated his fate, had cast the last straw to balance his destiny. “Any day?” asked Lady Forwood, smiling. “Any day,” he said, somewhat brusquely. Just then Sir David’s voice was audible in the hall asking where “my lady” was. “Here,” she called out. “It is all settled,” she said, as her husband appeared. “An important letter miscarried—thus the mistake.” Then she entered into a voluble explanation which astonished Hugh, but appeared perfectly intelligible to Sir David, who shook his hand quite warmly as he stepped into the brougham after his wife. Who had done this thing? Who was it who had fathomed not only his secret thoughts, but had dared to publish them to the world? “I will know some day,” he promised himself. Then he went home, and wrote to Mrs. Mervyn. The gist of the letter was that he and the house party might arrive any day after the 1st of September. CHAPTER XV. EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF DR. HUGH PAULL. _The Pinewood, October, 18—._ They say lookers-on see more of the game than the players. I shall write down all that has happened, and review it as a third person might before sending a brief statement to Helven. I do not think myself that when he reads it he will retain any reasonable doubt of the reincarnation of Lilia’s soul. I know now who instigated _that paragraph_; but more of that in its proper place.