What was there left for her to do? Go away without making some inquiry, without learning something about her husband and his state of health, and the manner in which he found himself once more under his uncle’s roof, well cared for and carefully nursed, she could not and would not. But how to learn what she wanted to know without making an unseemly and unwise disturbance? How convey to Gerard the fact of her being near him, without either giving him a dangerous shock or running the risk of rousing Lord Clanfield’s anger and causing a family scandal? That was the question which filled Audrey’s mind, as she lingered in the drive, looking askance at the house with its old red walls, weather-stained roof and the great green and red masses of ivy and virginia creeper which hung about it picturesquely and made dark fringes over the tall windows. And while she hesitated, lingered, debated with herself, there came a clattering of hoofs behind her, and stepping out of the road upon the sloping bank, Audrey turned to see Geoffrey Angmering, in a dog-cart, coming at a rapid rate up the drive. He recognised her at once. “Madame Rocada! By Jove!” cried he with a grin, as he reined in the horse, jumped down, and told the groom to drive on to the stable. “Well, of all the marvellous meetings--and here! By Jove, it is a surprise!” Audrey was very pale, very quiet, very dignified. This cub, with the free and easy manners and the impudent stare, could tell her what she wanted to know. But how to get at that knowledge? To him she was merely Madame Rocada, the woman who kept a house where gambling went on, where he himself and his brother had been “fleeced” at play. Knowing only of her what he did, there was nothing less likely than that he would converse with her about the family secrets or the family scandals. Half-tipsy as he generally was, even the reckless Geoffrey was hardly likely to speak out on such a subject. She began, therefore, by telling him frankly the object of her visit. “I am here,” she said, “to see Lord Clanfield. He has written accusing me of allowing you and your brother to come to my house to play cards there. Now you know that I have forbidden you to come, and therefore you have been deceiving him, by saying you were at ‘The Briars’ when you were not there at all.” Geoffrey stared at her with the same impudent look of incredulity and defiance as he had used on the night when she refused admission to her house to him and his brother. “I think it would have been wiser of you, Madame, to have taken no notice of his letter,” he said, with unmistakable mockery in his tone. “He won’t believe what you say, if you persist in seeing him, any more than he did before. If I were you, I should go quietly back home again, and if you like I’ll drive you to the station in my dog-cart.”