At length Theodore reappeared, brushed and trim, in speckless raiment. He took his place at the tea-table; and after the exchange of a few commonplace remarks, silence stole over the company. Theodore seemed to be waiting for something; and from time to time he looked at Owen as though expecting him to take his leave. Finally he cleared his throat, and said gravely, "Miss Cheffington, I see you are not taking any more tea; may I crave the favour of a few words with you?" "Oh, please, I think I _will_ have some more tea," said May, hastily pushing her cup towards Mrs. Bransby. Theodore, who had half risen from his chair, bowed, resumed his seat, and folded his arms in a waiting attitude. Then May added, with desperate resolution, "Will you not be kind enough to say what you have to say, now? I must be going home immediately; and I'm sure there can be no secrets to tell." She buried her face in her teacup to hide the colour which flamed into her cheeks as she said the words. "If you desire it," returned Theodore stiffly, "of course I shall obey. I merely thought you might prefer to receive painful tidings in----" "Painful!" cried May, turning pale, and suddenly interrupting him. "Is anything the matter with Granny?" A glance at his raised eyebrows reassured her, for the next moment she said, "Oh, how stupid I am! Of course you could know nothing, you have only just arrived. It isn't--it isn't my father, is it?" "Pray do not alarm yourself, Miss Cheffington. Captain Cheffington is, so far as I know, perfectly well." "Wouldn't it be better to speak out?" said Owen. As soon as he had spoken, he felt that he had no right to put in his word. But he could not help it; Theodore's self-important slowness was too exasperating. "Yes; do, please," said May. "There is no cause for alarm, as I said," returned Theodore, trying to look as if he had not heard Owen's suggestion. "But a shock--a slight shock--is apt to be felt at the announcement of sudden death, even in the case of a total stranger." "Sudden death!" "Yes; I regret to inform you that your cousin, George Cheffington, has been killed by the accidental discharge of a gun, when he was on a shooting expedition up the country." All three of his listeners drew a deep sigh of relief. "Oh!" sighed May, the colour returning to her cheeks and lips, "I felt a horrible fear for the moment about Aunt Pauline!" "This is a very important event," said Theodore, looking over his cravat with his House-of-Commons air, and indicating by his tone that the fate of Aunt Pauline was a matter of comparative insignificance. "I am sorry for poor old Lord Castlecombe," said May. "It will, of course, be a severe blow to your great-uncle; all the more so that Mr. Lucius Cheffington is in deplorably weak health." "Lucius is never very strong, is he?"