"May I walk back to the house with you?" Without waiting for her reply, Lord Maxwell turned, and the two went on. "Miss Prudence Ffolliott is here?" There was a certain intensity in his voice which added to the girl's emotion. "Yes--no," she answered, in some confusion; "she is staying here, as you know, but just now is out in the _Vireo_." "When will she be in?" He put the question quickly. "I don't know." Having given this answer, Carolyn expected the man to leave her immediately; but he did not. He kept on beside her until they reached the piazza, where hung a lamp. By the light of this lamp Carolyn saw his face. She restrained any manifestation of her surprise, but she asked, quietly, "Are you ill, Lord Maxwell?" "No, thank you, no." He moved restlessly as he stood. His face was flushed to a deep red; his prominent eyes had a strange fire in them. Carolyn's instant thought was that he had dined, and had also drunk more than was usual with him. She was silent for an instant, then she said, "Won't you come into the house and see mamma?" He moved again. "No, no," he said, hastily. "You are very good, but I can't, really I can't. I say, now," he added, abruptly, "it's too confounded beastly that Miss Prudence is gone, you know." Yes, he had certainly been drinking too much. Carolyn drew herself up a little. She wondered how long he would stay. "I've had a telegram,--Sulphur Springs, you know. Lady Maxwell worse,--not likely to live." "Oh, I'm so sorry!" "Eh? Oh, yes, of course,--sorry, you know." The speaker pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it over his face. "It isn't the least likely she'll live," he said, huskily. "I'm going to take the next train, you know; but I had time to come over here. I wanted devilishly to see your cousin,--oh, I beg pardon, I wanted very much to see her, you know. We're old friends and all that, you know. When did you think she'll be back?" "I don't know." "Hope she didn't go alone; dev--I mean, hard wind, you know. Is she alone?" "No." "Who's with her?" "Mr. Lawrence." Carolyn spoke with the utmost coldness, but she answered promptly. "Lawrence? Damn him! What's he--" "Lord Maxwell!" "Oh, I beg pardon,--ten thousand times, I'm sure. Do forgive me! You see, Thorbury--know Sir Charles Thorbury?--has just come over, and he and two or three of us have been dining. And if I take a drop more'n usual it plays the dev--it goes to my head. Beastly shame! Do forgive me! But I know what I'm about well enough; I want to see the other Miss Ffolliott. I'd give a thousand pounds to see her 'fore I start." Lord Maxwell drew out his watch and held it beneath the lamp. "Jove! I've got to go this very minute! But you tell her, won't you, Miss Ffolliott, that Lady Maxwell's very ill,--not expected to live,--Sulphur Springs no good, after all. Good-by. Wish you joy,--wish you joy. Forgot 'bout your marriage. Good-by."