The three were soon equipped for their journey. As the day was soft and warm, almost threatening to be sultry and overcoming, the completion of their toilets consisted in donning country straw hats, dainty lace capes, and gloves. Lady Quaintree folded a soft white shawl of fine silky wool about her, and they descended to the carriage, having hurriedly partaken of luncheon prepared by Mrs. Ormsby. CHAPTER XXIII. THE EXPRESS TO LONDON. “What messages are we to leave for Captain Desfrayne, my dear?” asked Lady Quaintree of Lois. They had both left his name to the last, each loath to be the one to recall it. Her ladyship noted, while apparently trying to master a refractory button on her glove, that the rose tint on Lois’ cheeks deepened, and then flowed over the rest of her face, while the long, dark lashes drooped. “Dear madam,” said the young girl, “that is a question I should rather have asked you, who know so much better than I do the proper things to be said.” “Proper, my love,” repeated the old lady, smiling. “It is not a matter of saying ‘proper’ or ‘civil’ things. What do you wish to say?” The color faded from Lois’ face, and then flowed back again in a roseate glow. “I am sure Miss Dormer and I are both most grateful to Captain Desfrayne for his kindness----” began Lois. Blanche put her hands on Lois’ waist, and gave her a gentle shake, and a glance of reproach. “‘Miss Dormer!’ You unkind Lois!” she said. “I thought I had asked you to call me Blanche.” Lois felt as if she must say things worthy of smiling rebuke, whether she willed it or not. “Come, we must leave some message, in case the captain should happen to call,” said Lady Quaintree. “Mrs. Ormsby,” she continued, turning to the housekeeper, who was following to attend them to their carriage, “if Captain Desfrayne--the gentleman who dined here yesterday--should come during the day, will you be good enough to inform him that we were unexpectedly summoned to London on the most urgent affairs?” “I will do so, my lady,” replied Mrs. Ormsby. The carriage drove off, containing the three ladies, Justine and the one or two other servants immediately attending them. There was no time to send for Blanche’s maid; but it was agreed that she should be sent for at once on their arrival at Lowndes Square. Lois gazed at the stately Hall and its lovely grounds, with strange, mingled feelings, as the carriage bore her swiftly away. An uncomfortable sensation rose in her throat, as if tears of regret were stealing from their hiding-place, as she reflected that she was in all likelihood losing a chance of seeing Paul Desfrayne, and hearing his promised explanation. “He will come to-day; and I shall not be here,” she thought.