“Thank you, Pearson. I am glad to hear it.” She walked to and fro in the sunshine, reading the note and rereading it. “Of course if he said it was all right, it was all right,” she murmured. “It is only the phrasing that makes me slightly nervous. Why should he ask me not to get rattled?” The term was by this time as familiar to her as any in Dr. Johnson's dictionary. “Of course he knows I do get rattled much too easily; but why should I be in danger of getting rattled now if nothing has happened?” She gave a very small start as she remembered something. “Could it be that Captain Palliser--But how could he? Though I do not like Captain Palliser.” Captain Palliser, her distaste for whom at the moment quite agitated her, was this morning an early riser also, and as she turned in her walk she found him coming toward her. “I find I am obliged to take an early train to London this morning,” he said, after their exchange of greetings. “It is quite unexpected. I spoke to Mr. Temple Barholm about it last night.” Perhaps the unexpectedness, perhaps a certain suggestion of coincidence, caused Miss Alicia's side ringlets to appear momentarily tremulous. “Then perhaps we had better go in to breakfast at once,” she said. “Is Mr. Temple Barholm down?” he inquired as they seated themselves at the breakfast-table. “He is not here,” she answered. “He, too, was called away unexpectedly. He went to London by the midnight train.” She had never been so aware of her unchristian lack of liking for Captain Palliser as she was when he paused a moment before he made any comment. His pause was as marked as a start, and the smile he indulged in was, she felt, most singularly disagreeable. It was a smile of the order which conceals an unpleasant explanation of itself. “Oh,” he remarked, “he has gone first, has he?” “Yes,” she answered, pouring out his coffee for him. “He evidently had business of importance.” They were quite alone, and she was not one of the women one need disturb oneself about. She had been browbeaten into hypersensitive timidity early in life, and did not know how to resent cleverly managed polite bullying. She would always feel herself at fault if she was tempted to criticize any one. She was innocent and nervous enough to betray herself to any extent, because she would feel it rude to refuse to answer questions, howsoever far they exceeded the limits of polite curiosity. He had learned a good deal from her in the past. Why not try what could be startled out of her now? Thus Captain Palliser said: “I dare say you feel a little anxious at such an extraordinarily sudden departure,” he suggested amiably. “Bolting off in the middle of the night was sudden, if he did not explain himself.” “He had no time to explain,” she answered. “That makes it appear all the more sudden. But no doubt he left you a message. I saw you were reading a note when I joined you on the terrace.”