"Oh, nothin'," said she. "She jes' wanted me to spy round, an' see if Mr. Hav'ley an' Miss Drane was fallin' in love with each other, an' then I was to go an' tell her about it the mornin' before she started. Now I'll have to keep it 'til she comes back, but I reckon thar ain't nothin' to tell about." La Fleur laughed. "Nothing at all," said she. "You might stay here a week and you wouldn't see any lovemaking between those two. They don't as much as think of such a thing. So you need not put yourself to any trouble about that part of Miss Panney's errand. Here comes your good Michael, and I think you will find that he is doing very well." About ten minutes after this, when Phoebe and Mike had gone off to talk over their more than semi-detached domestic affairs, La Fleur took the telegram from the drawer, replaced it in its envelope, which she closed and fastened so neatly that no one would have supposed that it had been opened. Then she took from a shelf a railroad time-table, which lay in company with her cookbook and a few other well-worn volumes; for the good cook cared for reading very much as she cared for her own mayonnaise dressing; she wanted but little at a time, but she liked it. "The last train to the city seems to be seven-ten," she said to herself. "No other train after that stops at Thorbury. If he had been at home he would have taken an early afternoon train, which was what she expected, I suppose. It will be a great pity for him to have to go tonight, and for no other reason than for that old trickster's telegram. If anything has really happened, he'll get news of it in some sensible shape." At all events, there was nothing now to be done with the telegram, so she put it on the shelf, and set about her preparations for dinner, which had been very much delayed. Ralph had gone off fishing; but, before starting, he had put Mrs. Browning to the gig and had told Cicely that as soon as her work was finished, she must take her mother for a drive. The girl had been delighted, and the two had gone off for a long jog through the country lanes. It was late in the afternoon when Ralph came striding homeward across the fields. He was still a mile from Cobhurst, and on a bit of rising ground when, on the road below him, he saw Mrs. Browning and the gig, and to his surprise the good old mare was demurely trotting away from Cobhurst. "Can it be possible," he exclaimed, "that they have just started!" And he hurried down toward the road. He now saw that there was only one person in the gig, and very soon he was near enough to perceive that this was Cicely.