Maria was easily persuaded to remain for the day at Ashlydyat. She sat at the window in the height of enjoyment. It was enjoyment to Maria Godolphin: sitting there in perfect stillness on a calm summer's day. The lovely flowers of Ashlydyat's garden, its velvet lawns, were stretched out before her: the white walls of Lady Godolphin's Folly rose in the distance; and Maria sat in an easy-chair in luxurious idleness, her fair white hands lying in her lap. Meta was away somewhere, fascinating the household, and all was rest. Rest from exertion, rest from care. The time came when Maria looked back on that day and believed it must have been paradise. Janet sent a note to the Bank, to desire George to come up to dinner with Thomas. When Thomas arrived, however, he was alone. George was out, therefore the note had not been given to him. They supposed he would be up in the evening, and dined without him. But the evening passed on, and he did not come. Thomas's private opinion was that George must have remained to search for the missing deeds. Thomas could not be easy under such a misfortune--as it might in truth be called. The sum was by far too weighty to be lost with equanimity. And that was not all: there was the unpleasant uncertainty with regard to the disappearance. Thomas mentioned the matter in confidence amongst them. At least, to Maria and Janet; the other two had gone out with Meta. Janet observed that he appeared absorbed in thought, as if uneasy at something; and he readily acknowledged that he had been rendered uneasy by a circumstance which had occurred during the day: the missing of some deeds that they had believed to be in safe custody. "What if you cannot find them, Thomas?" asked Janet. "Then we must make good the loss." "Is it a heavy amount?" "Yes." Janet looked startled. Thomas's grave manner did not tend to reassure her. She gave utterance to some half-spoken words. "It is a heavy amount as a loss," explained Thomas. "In fact, it is a large sum in itself. It would cost us over sixteen thousand pounds to make it good." Janet lifted her hands in dismay. "And all from the loss of a single packet of deeds?" "Even so." "But how can they have been lost?" "There it is," said Thomas Godolphin. "If we could tell as much as that, it would be some satisfaction. We cannot imagine how or when they were lost. George missed them a month ago; but----" "A month ago! Did George miss them a month ago?" It was Maria who interrupted, eagerness in her voice and manner. It had occurred to her that the fact might account for a certain restlessness, an anxiety in George's manner, which she had not failed to remark of late. The next words of Thomas Godolphin served to dissipate the illusion. "George looked for the deeds a month ago. Not finding them in the box, he concluded that I had moved them. Therefore we cannot be said to have known of the loss until to-day." "George ought to have asked you," said Janet.