That same day Aunt Ella wrote to Linda that she was coming with Florence, and that Algernon and she must arrange in some way to bring about that “explanation.” Algernon, Earl of Sussex, and the Countess Linda lived at Ellersleigh in the County of Sussex, not many miles from historic Hastings. To Aunt Ella and Florence they extended a warm and heartfelt welcome, and Florence, used as she was to the luxuries of life, could not but marvel at the beauty and even splendour that surrounded the Countess--once an American country girl named Linda Putnam. “I have sent out cards for a dinner party next Thursday,” said Linda to Aunt Ella. “There will be an opportunity for that 'explanation,' but you must assume the responsibility if there should be a tragic ending.” “We must hope for the best,” replied Aunt Ella. “I will gather up the fragments after the explosion.” From the expression on Florence's face, when Sir Wilfred Hornaby and Captain Reginald Hornaby were announced as guests, the explosion seemed imminent. In her mind, she had looked forward to such a meeting with a sensation of delight. Now that it had come her pride was up in arms. She had been tricked into coming. The Countess and Aunt Ella had arranged this meeting. Perhaps he had been told that she would be present. Well, if they did meet, he would have to do the talking. She had no explanation to make. If he had one, he must introduce the subject. At the dinner Florence sat next to Sir Wilfred, but the Captain was far removed on the other side of the long table. Sir Wilfred was politely attentive. Did he know of his son's crime? Evidently not--but, if he did, he had condoned the offence. But how could he if he was the man of honour that the Countess had pictured him in her letter to Aunt Ella? No, the son had deceived _his_ father as he had _her_ father. Did she really love him? Had she forgiven him? If he had proposed when Florence was in that state of uncertainty, his rejection would have been swift and positive. When the dinner was over, the Captain, apparently unconscious of guilt, approached Florence. He offered his arm. “Will you come with me, Miss Sawyer? I have a very important question to ask you.” Should she go? He was going to ask her a question. She had many to ask him. This unpleasant uncertainty must end--now, was the accepted time. She took his arm, and he made his way to the conservatory--that haven of confidences, where so many lovers have been made happy, or unhappy. “Why have you not answered my letters?” he said. “I never received them.” Her voice was cold, and she removed her hand from his arm. “I sent them in your father's care.” “That is probably the reason why I did not get them.” “Why should he refuse to give them to you? I borrowed money from him but I repaid him before I left America.” He thought she was not acquainted with his perfidy. She would undeceive him. “Did you tell him the truth when you borrowed it?”