"I wish that I had insisted on going down to Brighton with Austin," she said to herself. "I think I must get out. I shall go mad if I stop within these four walls." As she was making up her mind, the door opened, and old Grant entered. "A lady would like to see you. Miss," he said. "She says her name is Saxton and that you know her, as she is Mr Farloe's sister. She says she has been here once, but I don't seem to remember her." Sheila was immediately interested. Their acquaintance was of the slightest. She recalled the incident at the post-office, and wondered what was the object of the visit. "Yes, she came once to a big party. Grant. You have shown her into the drawing-room, I suppose? I will see her." She went at once to the drawing-room. Mrs Saxton rose as she entered, and advanced towards her with outstretched hand, her pretty, rather hard features subdued to an expression of deep sympathy. "My dear Miss Monkton, I do hope you will not regard my visit as an intrusion," she exclaimed fussily. "But, owing to my brother's connection with your family, I was bound to know something of what has happened. And I feel so deeply for you." Sheila replied with some conventional phrase, but her manner was constrained and cold. Mrs Saxton was acting, no doubt to the best of her capacity, but there was an absence of sincerity in voice and glance. She had come, not out of sympathy, but for her own ends. Sheila remembered what Smeaton had said, namely, that she knew a good deal more than she chose to tell. She also remembered the telegram which had been despatched a few hours ago. Was it possible Mrs Saxton had caught sight of her at the post-office in Edgware Road after all, and had come with the intention of pumping her? Whatever the motives might be, Sheila made up her mind to one thing-- that she would say as little as possible, and ask questions rather than answer them. "What has Mr Farloe told you?" "Oh, as little as he possibly could. But although it has been very cleverly kept from the Press, rumours are flying about at the clubs, in the House of Commons, everywhere. Your father has not been seen for several days, and he is much too important a man not to be missed." Sheila made no answer. She was resolved to take a very passive _role_ in this interview which had been thrust upon her. She looked steadily at Mrs Saxton, who bore the scrutiny of those candid young eyes with absolute composure, and waited for her to resume the conversation.