"But I do now," she exclaimed. "Only I do wish she did not look so sad. May I ask it because of our bargain? "--and she paused with gentle timidity--"Will you tell me?--do you know of any special reason to-day to make her unhappy? I saw her face at dinner to-night, and all the while she talked there was an anxious, haunted look in her eyes." Francis Markrute frowned for a moment; he had been too absorbed in his own interests to have taken in anything special about his niece. If there were something of the sort in her eyes it could only have one source--anxiety about the health of the boy Mirko. He himself had not heard anything. Then his lightning calculations decided him to tell Lady Ethelrida nothing of this. Zara's anxiety would mean the child's illness, and illness, Doctor Morley had warned him, could have only one end. He wished the poor little fellow no harm, but, on the other hand, he had no sentiment about him. If he were going to die then the disgrace would be wiped away and need never be spoken about. So he answered slowly: "There is something which troubles her now and then. It will pass presently. Take no notice of it." So Lady Ethelrida, as mystified as ever, turned the conversation. "May I give you the book to-morrow morning before we go to shoot?" the financier asked after a moment. "It is your birthday, I believe, and all your guests on that occasion are privileged to lay some offering at your feet. I wanted to do so this afternoon after tea, but I was detained playing bridge with your father. I have several books coming to-morrow that I do so want you to have." "It is very kind of you. I would like to show you my sitting-room, in the south wing. Then you could see that they would have a comfortable home!" "When may I come?" This was direct, and Lady Ethelrida felt a piquant sensation of interest. She had never in her life made an assignation with a man. She thought a moment. "They will start only at eleven to-morrow, because the first covert is at a corner of the park, quite near, and if it is fine we are all coming out with you until luncheon which we have in the house; then you go to the far coverts in the motors. When, I wonder, would be best?"--It seemed so nice to leave it to him. "You breakfast downstairs at half-past nine, like this morning?" "Yes, I always do, and the girls will and almost every one, because it is my birthday." "Then if I come exactly at half-past ten will you be there?" "I will try. But how will you know the way?" "I have a bump of locality which is rather strong, and I know the windows from the outside. You remember you showed them to me to-day as we walked to the tower." Lady Ethelrida experienced a distinct feeling of excitement over this innocent rendezvous. "There is a staircase--but no!"--and she laughed--"I shall tell you no more. It will be a proof of your sagacity to find the clue to the labyrinth."