Dish after dish disappeared, and Una made a faint pretence at eating as usual, and joined in the conversation between Stephen and Mrs. Davenant, but her eyes were continually straying toward the clock, her ears straining for the sound of wheels or a galloping horse. The dinner was a thing of the past, and the soup had been kept hot in vain; no Jack arrived. Gradually silence had fallen on the three, and when Mrs. Davenant rose it was with a sigh of loving sympathy with the troubled heart that ached so near her own. "I cannot think what has kept him," she said, when they were alone together in the drawing-room. "If it were anyone but Jack I should feel nervous--but even I cannot feel nervous about _him_. It is a plain, easy road from Earl's Court, and he rides like a--a centaur." "Perhaps," said Una, with her eyes fixed on the fire--"perhaps Lady Bell pressed him to stay to dinner, and he will be here presently." "That must be it," said Mrs. Davenant, hopefully. "He will come in directly, making a most tremendous noise, and raging against whatever has been keeping him. Jack's rages are dreadful while they last--they don't last long!" Una smiled, and listened. Stephen entered--so noiselessly that she almost started--and stooped over his mother. "There are some things in the breakfast room I brought from London, will you go and see to them?" Mrs. Davenant rose instantly. "Una, dear," she said, "see to the tea, I will be back directly." Una nodded, and sat down at the gypsy table. Stephen stood beside the fire, one white hand stretched out to the blaze, his face turned toward her, his eyes watching her under their lowered lids. His heart beat nervously, the task before him seemed to overmaster him, and he shrank from it; with one hand he felt Jack's letter, lying like an asp in his breast coat pocket. "There is a cold wind tonight," he said absently. "Jack said the wind had gone round this morning." "Jack," said Una, raising her eyes, with a sudden flame of color in her face. "Have you seen him? You have been to Earl's Court?" Stephen frowned as if angry at making a slip. "No--no," he said with gentle hesitation. "No; I saw him in London. He is not at Earl's Court." "Not at Earl's Court!" said Una, with surprise. "How is that? Oh, he is not ill?" And her breath came sharply. Stephen turned to the fire, with knitted brow and compressed lip, and fidgeted with the poker. "No," he replied, slowly, and as if uncertain what to say--"he is not ill." "Then why did he not go?" asked Una. Stephen remained silent; and still keeping her eyes fixed on his pale face, she rose and glided to his side. "You have something to tell me," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and speaking in a low, panting voice. "What is it? You will tell me, will you not? Has anything happened to Lady Bell? Is she at Earl's Court?" "Yes, she is at Earl's Court," he said, almost bitterly, "and she is quite well, I believe."