"Oh no," said Gwen, stammering. "I--lost it--somehow. Oh, thanks so much! Oh, thanks!" Tears of embarrassment were starting to the girl's eyes, and she turned away, letter in hand, and went towards her door like a beaten child. Lady Dashwood gazed after her, pity uppermost in her heart--pity, now that Belinda and Co. were no longer dangerous. Safely inside the door, Gwen gave way to regret, and from regret for her carelessness she went on to wondering wildly what effect the letter might have had on Lady Dashwood! Had she told the Warden its contents? Had she read the letter to him? Gwen squirmed as she walked about her room. There was a look in Lady Dashwood's face! Oh dear, oh dear! The dresses lay neglected on the bed; the sight of them only made Gwen's heart ache the more, for they reminded her of those bright hopes that had flitted through her brain--hopes of having more important clothes as the Warden's wife. Gwen had even gone as far as wondering whether Cousin Bridget might not give her some furs as a wedding present. Cousin Bridget had spent over a thousand pounds in new furs for herself that first winter of the war, when the style changed; so was it too much to expect that Cousin Bridget, who was the wealthy member of the family, though her husband's title was a new one, might give her a useful wedding present? Now, the mischance with this letter had probably destroyed all chances of the Warden marrying her! She was glad that he had gone away to-day, so that she would not see him again till the next morning; that gave more time. She did not want to go to Chartcote to lunch. She would not be able to eat anything if she felt as miserable as she did now, and she would find it impossible to talk to any one. Even her mother's letter of advice might not help her very much--now that old letter had been seen. Gwen walked about her room, sometimes leaning over the foot of her bed and staring blankly at the dresses spread out before her, and sometimes stopping to look at herself in a long mirror on the way, feeling very sorry for that poor pretty girl whose image she saw reflected there. When she heard a knock at the door she almost jumped. Was it Lady Dashwood? Gwen's answering voice sounded very soft and meek, as if a mouse was saying "Come in" to a cat that demanded entrance. It was Mrs. Dashwood who opened the door and walked in. "You want advice about what to wear for lunch?" said Mrs. Dashwood. "Lady Dashwood is finishing off some parcels, and asked me to come and offer you my services--if you'll have me?" and she actually laughed as she caught sight of the display on the bed. "Very business-like," she said, walking up to the bed. She did not seem to have noticed Gwen's distracted appearance, and this gave Gwen time and courage to compose her features and assume her ordinary bearing. "Thanks so much," she said, going to the foot of the bed. "I was afraid I bothered Lady Dashwood when I asked about the lunch."