"I see, sir, that you still hold to that, and I am glad of it, but Mrs. Everett is the sort of woman to frighten a body. Her eyes seem to pierce right down to your very heart--they seem to read your secret. Mr. Awdrey, will you do what I ask you? Will you leave England for a bit? It would be dreadful for me to have done all that I have done and to find it useless in the end." Whatever reply Awdrey might have made to this appeal was never uttered. His attention was at this moment effectually turned into another channel. He saw Mrs. Everett, his wife, and boy coming to meet him. The boy, a splendid little fellow with rosy cheeks and vigorous limbs, ran down the path with a glad cry to fling himself into his father's arms. He was a princely looking boy, a worthy scion of the old race. Awdrey, absorbed with his son, took no notice of Hetty. Unperceived by him she slipped down a side path and was lost to view. "Dad," cried the child, in a voice of rapture. Margaret and Mrs. Everett came up to the pair. "I hope you are better, Robert," said his wife. "I suppose I am," he answered. "I had a fairly good night. How well Arthur looks this morning." "Poor little boy, he was fretting to come to meet you," said Mrs. Awdrey. Awdrey turned to speak to Mrs. Everett. There was a good deal of color in her cheeks, and her dark eyes looked brighter and more piercing than ever. "Forgive me," she said, "for interrupting this conversation. I want to ask you a question. Mr. Awdrey, I saw you walking just now with a woman. Who was she?" Awdrey laughed. "Why, she has gone," he said, glancing round. "Who do you think my companion was?" he continued, glancing at Margaret. "None other than an old acquaintance--pretty little Hetty Armitage. She has some other name now, but I forget what it is. She said she came up to town on purpose to see me, but I could not induce her to come to the house. What is the matter, Mrs. Everett?" "I should like to see Hetty Armitage. Did she give you her address?" "No, I did not ask her. I wonder why she hurried off so quickly; but she seemed in a queer, excitable state. I don't believe she is well." "I want to see her again," continued Mrs. Everett. "I may as well say frankly that I am fully convinced there is something queer about that woman--a very little more and I should put a detective on her track. I suspect her. If ever a woman carried a guilty secret she does." "Oh, come," said Margaret, "you must not allow your prejudices to run away with you. Please remember that Hetty grew up at Grandcourt. My husband and I have known her almost from her birth." "A giddy little thing, but wonderfully pretty," said Awdrey. "Well, never mind about her now," interrupted Margaret, a slight touch of impatience in her manner. "Please, Robert, tell me exactly what Dr. Rumsey ordered for you."