"I will not seek him in his study," muttered the poor woman, tragically. "I will have him fetched to me here." "Your ladyship rang?" said Jane, looking at her mistress wonderingly. "Yes. Go and--no, stop. Where is Master Sydney?" "I think he has gone fishing, my lady. I saw him with his rod and basket. Oh, yes, my lady, I remember, he asked me to cut him some sandwiches." Jane's tongue wanted to say a few words about the flask and sherry, but she had a sort of sneaking liking for the saucy young rascal, and she suppressed that. "To be sure, I remember," said Lady Lisle, quite cold and calm now--upon the surface. "Go and ask Sir Hilton to join me here." "Sir Hilton, my lady?" "Yes. Did I not speak plainly?" said her ladyship, cuttingly. "Yes, my lady, but I thought you had forgotten again. Sir Hilton's gone out." "Gone out?" This came like a volcanic burst through the calm envelope. "Yes, my lady." The eruption was checked, and the calm aspect closed up, as the bright envelope of the sun eliminates a sun-spot at times. "Has he--er--gone fishing with Master Sydney?" "No, my lady; I didn't see, for I was doing your room. But he ordered the dogcart, Mark said, and they've gone together." "Where did Mark say they were going?" Lady Lisle was losing her calmness at this check to her plans. Jane was silent. "Why do you not speak, girl?" came in sternly tragic tones. "Please, my lady, I'd rather not." "Why?" "Because I don't want to get a fellow-servant into trouble." "Speak out at once, girl. No fellow-servant of yours will meet with injustice while I am mistress of the Denes." "Of course not, my lady." "Tell me then, at once, what more Sir Hilton's groom and valet said." "Well, my lady, if I must I must; but it wasn't Mark's fault." "Certainly not. Go on." "Mark said he thought they were going over to the races, but he was not sure." "H'm!" sighed Lady Lisle, and then to herself: "Tilborough--the telegram--an excuse." Jane backed towards the door, and had already taken the handle, when, after a fierce internal struggle with the jealous rage within her, Lady Lisle said in a slow, would-be careless way: "Did anyone call while I was out?" "Yes, my lady; Dr Granton." "That was while I was away with the pony-carriage, Jane. I returned and saw him." "Of course; so you did, my lady." "I meant since." "Yes, my lady; after you'd gone in the b'rouche. Lady Tilborough came on horseback." "To call on me?" "She asked for Sir Hilton, my lady." "Ha!" ejaculated the jealous woman, through the envelope. "But she said something, my lady," cried Jane, womanlike, grasping her mistress's feelings and eager to put matters right. "Ah, what did she say?" came like lightning. "She said you wasn't at home, my lady, for she met you in the road." "The brazen deception!" said Lady Lisle to herself. "A cloak of cunning to try and hide her sin."