"No; I have heard nothing for a week or more," said Rex, hastily, his face clouding over with anxiety. "Is it--is it anything new?" "No, no; you would have heard, of course, if it had been anything exactly critical. Perhaps I should not have told you of it. Arthur says he would write to you if it got worse. I have his letter in my pocket. Here it is. You can read it afterwards;" and he held out an envelope. "Your not having heard is a good sign, you see. I've made a muddle of it, and frightened you for nothing. Angey didn't want you told, if it could be helped. She--she said you had enough on your mind already, just now." The last few words were spoken in a lower tone, so low that Imogen scarcely caught them, and they were accompanied by a glance in her direction which made the colour rise to her cheeks. There was a sort of questioning in the glance as well as undisguised, but entirely respectful, admiration. She got up from her seat and touched Major Winchester very slightly on the arm. He turned at once with a quick gesture of apology. But before he had time to speak, she forestalled him. "I think I will go into the drawing-room. Mother, or some of them, are sure to be there," she said, gently. "Forgive me," he said, quickly. "Wait one moment. You must not go alone. The dancing is beginning. Robin--Miss Wentworth, may I introduce my brother, Mr Robert Winchester? My _little_ brother," with a smile, though the anxiety was still visible in his face. "And, Robin, will you take care of Miss Wentworth for a few minutes while I read this? Then you will find me here again; and--I hope I shall still have my dance with you--_Valesca_?" he said, and the smile was brighter now. Imogen brightened up too. "If--if you are not disinclined for it," she replied. "No, no; it will do me good." "Don't you think, Miss Wentworth," said Robert Winchester, as he offered Imogen his arm and they walked away, "that I can best take care of you by replacing Rex as your partner. You were dancing with, him, were you not?" "I don't think we had settled anything about it," Imogen answered, simply. "But I should like to dance very much. Only first--I could not help overhearing a little--I am so sorry. Is it about your sister, Mrs Bertrand?" "Yes," and Robin glanced at her. "He has told you, I see. Poor Rex! he's lucky to have your sympathy. He--I wish a few less troubles would fall to his share. I wish I could see him really happy at last." And again he glanced at her, half inquiringly. "He told me," she said, hesitating a little, out of a sort of shyness, "he told me of his anxiety about Mrs Bertrand; but that must be an anxiety to you, too, Mr Winchester."