Marie handed her the box, Lady Ardingly lit one. The little person in Marie's brain told her that it smelt delicious. But the greater lobes were now beginning to work; the apathetic mist was clearing. "You have seen Jack?" she said. "He drove with you here, did he not?" "Yes, my dear. How quick of you to guess! Jack is distraught. But tell me, what did you see or hear? You had a bad headache; you were in your room. What else?" "I felt better. I went into the garden," said Marie. "I saw--sufficient." "Ah, what stupid fools!" ejaculated Lady Ardingly, not meaning to say anything of the kind. "Exactly--what stupid fools!" said Marie. "But not only that, you know." "Of course, not only that," said Lady Ardingly, annoyed at herself. "Now, Marie, Jack is here. He is waiting to know if you will see him. I will wait, too. I will sacrifice all the day, if between us we can make you see--if between us we can do any good. I ask you in common fairness to listen. There will be plenty of time for all sorts of decrees correspondent--I don't know what they call them--afterwards. Now, which of us will you see first? Him or me?" Marie suddenly felt her throat muscles beyond control. She had no idea whether she was going to laugh or cry. Her will was to do neither. The effect was that she did both, and flung herself down on the sofa by the other. "There, there," said Lady Ardingly, "that is right. I am not a tender woman, but I am sorry for you. It is all terrible. But the sun will rise to-morrow, and the Newmarket autumn meeting will take place, and Christmas Day will come in November--or December, is it not? Be quiet a moment." But Marie's hysterical outburst ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and she sat up again, drying her eyes. "Give me a minute," she said. "As many as you wish," said Lady Ardingly. "By the way, is that tall thing here, that daughter?" Marie began to laugh again, but checked herself. "Yes," she said. "Maud saw what I saw. She came up with me last night." "Do the servants know?" asked Lady Ardingly with some anxiety. "I think not. But my maid knows I went last night. I left a note for her saying so. She came here an hour ago." "Tell her you will dismiss her if she says a word," said Lady Ardingly. "She will not." "You are certain?" "Perfectly." "Then, my dear, will you talk to Jack first, or to me?" said the other. "To Jack, if you can wait," said Marie. "Yet I don't know why I should keep you. I have got to talk to Jack. I promised him. And that is all, I think." Lady Ardingly rose with alacrity. "Then talk to him now," she said. "Afterwards, though perhaps you don't want to talk to me, I want to talk to you. I will send him." For a moment Marie was alone. The interval she employed in wheeling a chair up to the table where the cigarettes were. She sat herself in it, and on the moment Jack came in, and the two were face to face. He, like her, looked absolutely normal.