Nobody knew very well what was said or done in the agitated half-hour that remained. It was agreed between them that “the details,” of which Lady Jane had spoken with a blush, should be arranged afterwards, when all were more cool and masters of themselves--a state to which no one of the little group attained until Winton was hurrying along the country roads towards the station, and Lady Jane and her mother were seated in forlorn quiet alone in that little room which for the last week had been the scene of so many excitements. The Duchess rose with a start when the little French clock on the mantelpiece chimed one. “My dearest,” she said, “we have many things to do which look like falsehood, we women. You and I must appear at luncheon as if nothing had happened. There must be no red eyes, my love, no abstraction. It will be all over the world in no time, if we do not take care. For myself, alas! I am used to it; but you, Jane----” Lady Jane did not immediately reply. She said, “There is one thing, mamma, to which I have made up my mind----” The Duchess was examining herself in the glass to see if she was pale or red, or anything different from her ordinary aspect. She turned round to hear what this new determination was. “I will speak to my father myself,” Lady Jane said. If a cannon had been discharged into the peaceful little boudoir the effect could scarcely have been greater. “You will speak to your father, Jane? There are some things I know better than you. It will wound you, my darling--for no good.” “But I think it is right. There should be no means neglected to make him give his consent. With his consent all would be better. I think I ought to do it. It will be no shock to him now--he knows. To think of him like _that_ is the thing that gave me most pain.” “But if you should see him like _that_”--the Duchess said; then added hastily, “I know you are right. But you must set your face like a flint; you must not allow yourself to be made unhappy. Jane, your father does not think as I think in many ways. I have tried to keep you from all opposition; but he is old and you are young; you judge differently. You must not think because his point of view is different that he is wrong, even in this case--altogether.” Lady Jane lifted her mild eyes, which were almost stern in their unwavering sense of right. “I sometimes feel that you think nothing is wrong--altogether,” she said. “Perhaps not,” the Duchess replied, with a smile and a sigh. “It seems noble to me that you should think so, but I cannot. My father will not be like _that_ to me,” she added, with a little sadness. “Do not be afraid, and I will take a little time--not to-day, unless he speaks to me.” “He will not speak to you,” said the Duchess, eagerly. She thought that she had at least secured that.