"I will go at once," exclaimed Bessie, feeling convinced by his manner that something was very wrong. Edna must have quarrelled with him again. She ran upstairs and knocked on Edna's door, but received no answer; it was not locked, however, and after a moment's hesitation she entered. Edna had evidently not heard her; she was standing by the window in her walking-dress. As Bessie spoke to attract her attention, she turned round and frowned angrily; something in her face made Bessie breathless with apprehension. "What do you want?" she asked harshly. "Mr. Sinclair sent me," pleaded Bessie; "he is very anxious to speak to you; he begs that you will come downstairs. He thinks that there is some mistake." "No, there is no mistake," replied Edna slowly; "you may tell him so for me." "Why not tell him yourself, Edna?" "Because I have had enough of Mr. Sinclair's company this morning. Because nothing would induce me to speak to him again. I thought I had locked my door to prevent intrusion; but I suppose I forgot. Please give him my message that there is no mistake--oh, none at all." Bessie hesitated, but another look at Edna's face showed her that any entreaty at this moment would be in vain, so she went out of the room without another word. Mr. Sinclair was standing just where she had left him; he looked at her anxiously. Bessie shook her head. "She will not come," she said sorrowfully. "Will not? Did she give no reason--send no message?" "Only that there was no mistake; she repeated that more than once. Perhaps she will change her mind in a little while." But Mr. Sinclair did not seem to hear her. "No mistake! Then she meant it--she meant it!" he muttered, and his face became quite changed. He had walked to the window, but he came back again. "Thank you, Miss Lambert. I am very much obliged to you," he said, as though feeling he had been deficient in politeness; but before she could reply he had left the room. The gong sounded for luncheon directly afterward, but Bessie found the dining-room empty, so she sat down to her work again, and bye and bye Dixon brought her a message that his mistress was waiting. Mrs. Sefton was in the room alone; she motioned Bessie to a seat, and began to carve the chicken before her. No one else made their appearance; but Mrs. Sefton did not apologize for their absence. She scarcely eat anything herself, and made no attempt to sustain the conversation. She looked preoccupied and troubled, and as soon as the meal was over she begged Bessie to amuse herself, as she had some important business to settle, and left the room. Bessie passed a solitary afternoon; but though her book was interesting her attention often wandered. She was sure something was seriously wrong, and she felt vaguely unhappy on Edna's account. She could not forget Mr. Sinclair's face when she had brought him that message. It was as though he had received a blow that he scarcely knew how to bear.