The spelling of "solitary" had caused Gwen much mental strain, and even when the intellectual conflict was over and the word written, it did not look quite right. Why had she not said "lonely"? But that, too, had its difficulties. However, the letter was now finished. Louise had taken her at her word and had not returned. Gwen looked at her watch. It was past a quarter to eleven. At this hour she knew she mustn't ring the bell for a servant. She could not search for Louise, she would be in Lady Dashwood's room. She must take the letter herself to the library. She put the letter into an envelope and addressed it to Dr. Middleton. Then she added her mother's letter and sealed the whole. Then she peeped out of her door and listened! All the lights were full on and there was no sound of any one moving. The Warden very likely hadn't yet returned. She would try and find out. She slipped quietly down the steps, and with her feet on the thick carpeted landing she waited. She could see that the hall below was brightly lighted, and all was still. She listened intently outside the drawing-room door. Not a sound. She might have time--if he really hadn't arrived. She fled across the head of the staircase and was at the door of the library in a second of time. There she paused. No, there was no sound behind her! No one was coming upstairs! No one was opening the front door or moving in the hall! But it was just possible that he had already arrived and was sitting in the library. He might be sitting there--and looking severe! That would be alarming! Though--and here Gwen suddenly decided that for all his severity she infinitely preferred his appearance to that of a man like Mr. Boreham--Mr. Boreham's beard was surely the limit! She listened at the door. She laid her cheek against it and listened. No sound! The whole house illuminated and yet silent! There was something strange about it! She would peep in and if there was no light within--except, of course, firelight--she would know instantly that the Warden wasn't there. It would only take her a flash of a minute to run in, throw the letter down on the desk, and fly for all she was worth. She turned the handle of the door slowly and noiselessly, and pushed ever so little. The door opened just an inch or two and disclosed--darkness! Except for a glimmer--just a faint glimmer of light!