Only faint echoes of the din penetrated the spacious quiet of Ulland House. Although the frequent week-end party was there, the great hall on this particular morning presented a deserted appearance as the tall clock by the staircase chimed the hour of noon. The insistence of the ancient timepiece seemed to have set up a rival in destruction of the Sunday peace, for no sooner had the twelfth stroke died than a bell began to ring. The little door in the wainscot beyond the clock was opened. An elderly butler put his head round the huge screen of Spanish leather that masked the very existence of the modest means of communication with the quarters of the Ulland domestics. So little was a ring at the front door expected at this hour that Sutton was still slowly getting into the left sleeve of his coat when his mistress appeared from the garden by way of the French window. The old butler withdrew a discreet instant behind the screen to put the last touches to his toilet, but Lady John had seen that he was there. 'Has Miss Levering gone for a walk?' she inquired of the servant. 'I don't know, m'lady.' 'She's not in the garden. Do you think she's not down yet?' 'I haven't seen her, m'lady,' said Sutton, emerging from his retirement and approaching the wide staircase on his way to answer the front-door bell. 'Never mind'--his mistress went briskly over to a wide-winged writing-table and seated herself before a litter of papers--'I won't have her disturbed if she's resting,' Lady John said, adding half to herself, 'she certainly needs it.' 'Yes, m'lady,' said Sutton, adjusting the maroon collar of his livery which had insisted upon riding up at the back. 'But I want her to know'--Lady John spoke while glancing through a letter before consigning it to the wastepaper basket--'the moment she comes down she must be told that the new plans arrived by the morning post.' 'Plans, m'la----' 'She'll understand. There they are.' The lady held up a packet about which she had just snapped an elastic band. 'I'll put them here. It's very important she should have them in time to look over before she goes.' 'Yes, m'lady.' Sutton opened a door and disappeared. A footstep sounded on the marble floor of the lobby. Over her shoulder Lady John called out, 'Is _that_ Miss Levering?' '_No_, m'lady. Mr. Farnborough.' 'I'm afraid I'm scandalously early.' In spite of his words the young man whipped off his dust coat and flung it to the servant with as much precipitation as though what he had meant to say was 'scandalously late.' 'I motored up from Dutfield. It didn't take me nearly so long as Lord John said.' The lady had given the young man her hand without rising. 'I'm afraid my husband is no authority on motoring--and he's not home yet from church.'