"Off with you, then. There's no beauty-sleep for you to-night; but you must not think of getting up early. I know more than one person who would not be pleased to see you pale and wearied-looking." Mrs Wentworth's dreams that night were roseate-hued. She had been well primed in the course of the evening by Mabella Forsyth with her clever hints and suggestions, so clever that when told over in simple language they sounded but natural and ingenuous little kindly compliments. Imogen slept the sleep of her eighteen years, untroubled by dreams, for she was really tired, but with a pleasant undercurrent of gratification and vague anticipation which her mother's words had greatly tended to strengthen. And while the little conversation I have repeated was taking place between Mrs Wentworth and her daughter, another was passing between the two brothers. Down-stairs in the smoking-room--for it had been arranged that he was to stay the night at The Fells--Robin Winchester was sitting, more silent than his wont, while his cousins and their friends kept up a rather noisy chatter, unrestrained by the awe-inspiring presence of Major Rex. "It's hardly worth while to go to bed," said Robin at last. His brother got up and went over to him. "Oh yes, it is: you can have four or five hours' sleep; nobody will be very early here. What have you been about, Robin? You seem done up." Robin started slightly. "I'm all right. Perhaps I was thinking about Angey," he said. "There may be a letter for you in the morning, Rex. That was one reason I was glad to stay. That girl--Miss Wentworth--was so sympathising about it." "Yes," said Major Winchester. "She has a kind little heart. She's a nice child; a great deal of good in her. And isn't she pretty? Last night she looked really charming. But, Robin, about Angey. I almost think I should go." This point was discussed for a moment or two. Then Robin again managed to bring in Imogen's name. Rex answered carelessly; he was thinking of something else. "Miss Wentworth, did you say? Oh yes, that was her mother. Then, Robin, if _you_ hear anything,"--and so on about arrangements and plans in connection with Mrs Bertrand. It was no use. Robin could not manage to bring the talk round deftly, as he had hoped. He must plunge in boldly. "Rex," he said abruptly, though in a low voice. He glanced round; they were practically alone, for the room was large and the Helmonts and their friends were still making a good deal of noise at the other end. "Rex, does Miss Wentworth know, about you?" "Know about me!" Major Winchester repeated. "How do you mean?" "About your--about you and Eva?" Rex looked a little surprised, but in no way startled or even interested.