"Oh, I am so sorry! But you should not have come; you are evidently still in pain. So distressing! Sit here; let me--" "No, really," said he, "it is nearly all right now, dear Mrs. Mordaunt. I have so much to say, and so little time to say it in. Where is Violet?" "She is in her bed-room; will soon be down. Let me place this cushion--" "She is well, I hope?" "Yes; a little strange and restless to-day, perhaps." "What is it now?" "Oh, some little fall of the spiritual barometer, I suppose. She has not mentioned anything specific to me." "You received my telegram of this morning?" "Saying that you would come at half-past one? Yes." "Well, I am lucky to have found you alone, for in what I have now to suggest to you, I do not wish my influence to appear--let it seem to be done entirely on your own impulse--but I have to beseech you, Mrs. Mordaunt, to return to Rigsworth this very day." "To-day? Rigsworth? But there are still a host of things to be seen to before the wedding--" "I know, I know. Even at the cost of putting off the wedding for a week, if you will do all that is to be done from Rigsworth instead of in London, you will profoundly oblige me. I had hoped that you would this do for me without requiring my reason, but I see that I must give it, and without any beating about the bush. Only give me first your assurance that you will breathe not one word to Violet of what I am forced to tell you." "Good gracious! What has happened?" "Promise me this." "Well, I shall be discreet." "Then, I have to tell you that Violet has made an undesirable acquaintance in London, one whom it is of supreme importance, if our married life is to be a success, that she should see not once again. It is a man--No, don't be unduly alarmed--I don't for a moment suspect that their intimacy has proceeded far, but it has proceeded too far, and must go no farther. I may tell you that it is my belief that letters, or notes, have passed between them, and, to my knowledge, they have met at least once by appointment in Kensal Green cemetery, for I have actually surprised them there. Now, pray, don't be distressed. Don't, now, or I shall regret having told you. Certainly, it is a serious matter, but don't think it more serious than it is--" "Violet?" breathed Mrs. Mordaunt, with a long face. "The facts are as I have stated them," proceeded Van Hupfeldt, "and when the knowledge of them came to me, I was at some pains to make inquiries into the personality of the man in question. He turns out to be a man named Harcourt." "Oh, you mean Mr. Harcourt, the occupier of the flat in Eddystone Mansions? Why, he was here yesterday. Violet herself told me--" "Here? Yesterday?" Van Hupfeldt turned suddenly greenish. "But why so? What did the man say?" "Violet did not seem to wish to be explicit," answered Mrs. Mordaunt; "but I understood from her that he is interested in Gwendoline's fate."