Usk’s mind that any one could dream he would let slip this long-desired opportunity, and he sent an eager message by Maimie begging Félicia, who was breakfasting in her own room, to drive to the station with him. When he came downstairs with his bag, however, he found her still in her “wrapper,” as she called the frilled and beribboned garment which Lady Caerleon always felt ought not to make its appearance outside a bedroom. Maimie had insisted on her getting up when she brought Usk’s message, and she was obliged to make a very hasty toilet, much to her disgust. She did not appear to suitable advantage, she felt, unless Pringle’s skilful fingers had proper time for their work. “Why, Fay, aren’t you coming, then?” cried Usk, when he saw her. “I guess not,” responded Félicia laconically. “Well, you’ll wish me joy, won’t you? This is the beginning, you know.” “Of what? The beginning of the end?” “What do you mean?” Usk was too happy and too much excited to make any attempt to understand. “Why, it’s my chance at last--what we’ve talked of so often.” “You have,” corrected Félicia. Then a transient gleam of brightness showed itself. “Canvassing, do you mean? Then I suppose we are all to trail you along?” “Oh no, that would be a little previous,” laughed Usk. “I’m only going to be introduced to the party. There’s no election on at present.” “I want to know! You’re leaving me this way just for an ordinary ward-meeting? and you don’t so much as ask me whether I choose to have you go?” “Why in the world should I think you’d mind? I thought you would be delighted. Why, Fay!” in utter amazement, for Félicia was weeping delicately into a lace handkerchief. “You said you loved me, and now you’re having the Baron--everybody--see how little you care for me. You just haven’t the very slightest consideration for my feelings!” Dismayed and astounded, but still utterly puzzled as to the nature of his offence, Usk knelt down hastily by her chair, and alternately entreated her forgiveness and adjured her to tell him what he had done. With him it was a matter of course that the women of a household should send forth their men to the chances of war or politics with a brave face and words of cheer, and he could not conceive Félicia’s feeling hurt at not being consulted. He did not know that Maimie’s triumphant “Now you see just how much he thinks about you!” was rankling in her mind, and that she had set her heart on proving her power over him. When she consented at last to remove the handkerchief from her eyes, it was merely to intimate that he might consider himself forgiven if he did not go. Usk sprang to his feet. “And lose this chance--give Forfar a slap in the face?” he cried in astonishment. “Why, Fay, you must be mad! You’re joking, aren’t you? You couldn’t possibly mean it.” “I guess I mean exactly what I say. You’re telling me all the time how much you love me, but I can’t just seem to realise it.”