For a minute or two Brumm only stared. He looked upon the dean's daughter, if the truth must be told, as a rather flighty damsel; and he did not believe she could want anything with Mr. St. John. That is to say, nothing of importance. "My master is excessively fatigued, Miss Beauclerc," he said at length. "I fear he will not be able to see any one tonight." "Don't be an idiot, Brumm," peremptorily retorted the young lady. "I tell you I _must_ see him: the matter is almost one of life or death. You get him to me in some way; but take care you do it without arousing suspicion in Mrs. St. John." She stole round the house as she spoke, on her way to Mr. St. John's own sitting-room--the pleasant room you have sometimes seen him in. Brumm, in doubt still, yet seeing no remedy but to obey, collected the things from the carriage, handed them to a footman, and then went to the drawing-room. His master was not seated, but standing. By this Brumm knew that he did not intend to remain in the room. Mrs. St. John was telling him of what she called Fred's mysterious conduct, and showed him the note received on the previous day. She spoke complainingly, and avowed her belief that her roving son had taken French leave to go back to London. At any rate, there was nothing Mr. St. John could do in the matter; and in point of fact his fatigue was such he could not in any case have done much. Excessive bodily fatigue takes from the power of the mind; and he did not seem to attach much importance to what Mrs. St. John was saying. He went out of the room, carrying the note with him; and there he was arrested by Brumm. "Will you be so kind, sir, as step into your sitting-room for an instant?" "I am going upstairs, Brumm. I have not felt so tired for years." "But--I beg your pardon, sir," resumed Brumm, speaking in the covert tone he had before used, and which a little surprised his master--"you--you are wanted there. If you will step this way, sir, I will explain." Mr. St. John quitted the proximity of the drawing-room, which was evidently what Brumm wished. "Miss Beauclerc was waiting to speak to him," he whispered as he crossed the hall. "She said she wanted a word with him in private." "Miss Beauclerc!" Wondering very much, not perhaps at her wishing to speak to him, there was nothing extraordinary in that, but at the air of secrecy that Brumm seemed to invest the affair with, Mr. St. John went to his sitting-room. Georgina was pacing it somewhat like a caged bird, hardly able to suppress her impatience. "I have been waiting outside for you since twelve o'clock!" she exclaimed, ignoring all ceremonious greeting. "I thought you would never come!" "Do you want me?" asked Mr. St. John. "Do I want you! I never wanted any one so much in my life. Has Mrs. St. John been telling you that Frederick has disappeared?" "Yes. She thinks he has gone to London."