Of course Mrs. Dunstan says she _is_ glad, and in a measure her words are true. She is glad to keep this fascinating wicked flirt under her eye, where it is impossible she can tamper with the affections of her beloved Charlie, and she is glad of her company and conversation, which is as sociable and bright as a clever little woman can make it. Mrs. Lawless is full of sympathy, too, with Mrs. Dunstan’s fears and the bad behaviour of her servants, and being a very good linguist, she promises to obtain all the information she can from them, and make them fully understand their mistress’s intentions in return. “It’s lucky I came, my dear,” she says brightly, “or they might have made themselves still more offensive to you. But you have the dear Colonel and Jack to thank for that, for I shouldn’t have left home if they had not done so.” “Ah, just as I imagined,” thinks Ethel, “she would not have left him unless she had been obliged, and she has the impudence to tell me so to my very face. However, she is here, and I must make the best of it, and be thankful it has happened so.” And so she lays herself out to please her guest in order to keep her by her as long as she possibly can. But a few days after Cissy’s arrival she receives a letter that evidently discomposes her. She keeps on exclaiming, “How provoking,” and “How annoying,” as she peruses it, and folds it up with an unmistakable frown on her brow. “What is the matter?” demands Ethel. “I hope it is not bad news.” “Yes, it is very bad news. They have never gone after all, Mrs. Dunstan, and Jack is so vexed I should have left Mudlianah before he started.” “But now you are here, you will not think of returning directly, I hope,” says Ethel, in an anxious voice. “Oh no, I suppose not--it would be so childish--that is, unless Jack wishes me to do so. But I have hardly recovered from the effects of the journey yet; those transits shake so abominably. No, I shall certainly stay here for a few weeks, unless my husband orders me to return.” Yet Mrs. Lawless appears undecided and restless from that moment, which Mrs. Dunstan ascribes entirely to her wish to return to Mudlianah, and her flirtation with the Colonel, and the suspicion makes her receive any allusions to such a contingency with marked coolness. Cissy Lawless busies herself going amongst the natives and talking with them about the late disturbances at the castle, and her report is not satisfactory. “Are you easily frightened, Mrs. Dunstan?” she asks her one day suddenly. “No, I think not. Why?” “Because you must think me a fool if you like, but I am; and the stories your servants have told me have made me quite nervous of remaining at the castle.” “A good excuse to leave me and go back to Mudlianah,” thinks Mrs. Dunstan; and then she draws herself up stiffly, and says, “Indeed! You must be very credulous if you believe what natives say. What may these dreadful stories consist of?”