Feeling strangely restless, Laura walked out a little way, closing the door partly behind her. There was about a quarter of a mile of carriage road from the house to the gate, but the night was very clear, the ground hard and dry. Soon her eyes became accustomed to the darkness; she could see Oliver's tall figure rapidly growing less and less, dimmer and dimmer. Every moment she expected to see another, still more familiar, form emerge from out of the darkness. But, after pacing up and down for perhaps as long as ten minutes, she went back into the house. Godfrey was evidently coming home by the last train. Moved by an indefinable feeling of peace as well as of contentment, Laura sat up long that night, waiting for her husband. She had made up her mind to tell him, not only that Oliver had come back, but also that her brother was on his way to Mexico. Half ashamedly she asked herself why they should not all three go back to the happy conditions which had lasted all the summer? But there came neither Godfrey nor news of him, and Laura spent the evening of a day of which the date was to become memorable, not unhappily in reading. When it came to half-past eleven, she knew that her husband would not be home that night, but, even so, she sat up till the tall lacquered clock in the hall struck out the chimes of midnight. Then, a little reluctantly, she went upstairs, telling herself that if in the morning there was still no news of Godfrey, she and Alice would stroll along to Rosedean. Katty might know something of Godfrey's movements, for when she had been last at The Chase an illusion had been made to a bit of business he was to do for her in London, which would necessitate some correspondence. CHAPTER XIV There are certain winter days when bed and bath seem to be the only two tolerable places in the world. Katty Winslow, on waking up the next morning, that is, on Saturday, the seventh of January, knew at once, though she was snuggled down deep in her warm bed, that it was very much colder than it had been the evening before. She shivered a little, telling herself that perhaps she was not in as good condition as usual, for she had only just come back from spending Christmas and the New Year away. The faithful Harber drew back the curtains, letting in gleams of red winter sun. And then she brought her mistress a nice cup of hot tea, and a pretty, wadded, pale-blue bed wrap. Katty sat up. "I'm not in any hurry to-day," she said. "I'll ring when I want breakfast." And after having taken her tea she lay down again, and began to think. Oddly, or perhaps naturally, enough, her thoughts turned to Godfrey Pavely. She wondered vaguely where he was, and if he would be home to-day.