She could not, however, escape a renewal of the bombardment of yesterday, with regard to her return to Omberleigh. Mrs. Mynors brought in her work after lunch, and attacked the subject with determination. She was met with a meekness which surprised her. Virginia owned that she was at present too unwell to face anything difficult--to undergo any trying experience. Next week it would be different. She thought they might postpone serious discussion. The wind was somewhat taken out of her opponent's sails, but there was no doubt this depression and invalidism was satisfactory in her eyes. She made, as she thought, quite certain that her daughter had no intention of travelling at present. "I'm sure Osbert does not expect me. He has not written at all. He is waiting to hear again, I suppose." "Not written! When I told him how ill you are! Oh, Virgie, what a brute the man is!" The speaker omitted to mention that in her letter to her son-in-law she had begged him not to write to Virgie, as his letters "agitated her unaccountably," and that she herself had heard from him that morning to the effect that he hoped a doctor had been called in. She went away after a while, and wrote to Gerald in town. "I think there is no doubt she is growing to see that we are right," she wrote. "I am letting her come along at her own pace. The discovery that we know her secret has shaken her, and she has at least given up all idea of travelling at present. That being so, I shall run up to town to-morrow morning, as there are several things I must do. You and I can return here together in the evening. I will come up by the early express, and if you were to take tickets for the matinée at the Criterion, I should not object. One gets so bored here with invalids all day." * * * * * That night when Grover came into the room to make the final arrangements, she found Mrs. Mynors there, in the act of saying good night to a limp and disconsolate daughter. "I am running up to town on business by the 8:4 to-morrow, Grover," said she, turning round with that alarming sweetness which convinced the hearer that some demand upon her good-nature would be immediately made. "I wonder whether, while you are making Mrs. Gaunt's tea to-morrow morning, you would bring me a cup; these lodging-house people are so disagreeable about a little thing like that! Bring it at seven o'clock sharp, if you would be so kind." "Very well, mum," replied Grover in her gruffest tones, which were very gruff indeed. "Good-bye, my precious; rest well," murmured the lady, bending over the bed. "We shall cheer up when Gerald comes back, and if you are very good I will beg the doctor to let you get up on Thursday." "If I feel well enough," sighed Virginia, closing her eyes.