He laughed at the notion. Lady Kirton must be going soon of her own accord; if not, he should have to pluck up courage and give her a hint, was his answer. At any rate, she'd surely take herself off before Christmas. The old dowager at Hartledon after he had Anne there! Not if he knew it, he added, as he went on with her into the presence of Dr. and Mrs. Ashton. The Rector started from his seat, at once telling him that he ought not to have come in. Which Val did not see at all, and decidedly refused to go out again. Meanwhile the countess-dowager and Maude were wondering what had become of him. They supposed he was still sitting in the dining-room. The old dowager fidgeted about, her fingers ominously near the bell. She was burning to send to him, but hardly knew how he might take the message: it might be that he would object to leading strings, and her attempt to put them on would ruin all. But the time went on; grew late; and she was dying for her tea, which she had chosen should wait also. Maude sat before the fire in a large chair; her eyes, her hands, her whole air supremely listless. "Don't you want tea, Maude?" suddenly cried her mother, who had cast innumerable glances at her from time to time. "I have wanted it for hours--as it seems to me." "It's a horrid custom for young men, this sitting long after dinner. If he gets into it--But you must see to that, and stop it, if ever you reign at Hartledon. I dare say he's smoking." "If ever I reign at Hartledon--which I am not likely to do--I'll take care not to wait tea for any one, as you have made me wait for it this evening," was Maude's rejoinder, spoken with apathy. "I'll send a message to him," decided Lady Kirton, ringing rather fiercely. A servant appeared. "Tell Lord Hartledon we are waiting tea for him." "His lordship's not in, my lady." "Not in!" "He went out directly after dinner, as soon as he had taken coffee." "Oh," said the countess-dowager. And she began to make the tea with vehemence--for it did not please her to have it brought in made--and knocked down and broke one of the delicate china cups. CHAPTER XIV. ANOTHER PATIENT. It was eleven o'clock when Lord Hartledon entered. Lady Kirton was fanning herself vehemently. Maude had gone upstairs for the night. "Where have you been?" she asked, laying down her fan. "We waited tea for you until poor Maude got quite exhausted." "Did you? I am sorry for that. Never wait for me, pray, Lady Kirton. I took tea at the Rectory." "Took--tea--where?" "At the Rectory." With a shriek the countess-dowager darted to the far end of the room, turning up her gown as she went, and muffling it over her head and face, so that only the little eyes, round now with horror, were seen. Lord Hartledon gazed in amazement. "You have been at the Rectory, when I warned you not to go! You have been inside that house of infection, and come home--here--to me--to my darling Maude! May heaven forgive you, Hartledon!"