He stopped and turned. He could do no less. And Octave stood with him, laughing and talking rather more freely than she might have done, had she been aware of what had just taken place. Miss Diana drew in her severe lips, changed her course, and sailed back to the hall-door. Octave was coming in then. "Manners have changed since I was a girl," remarked Miss Diana. "It would scarcely have been deemed seemly then for a young lady to run after a gentleman. I do not like it, Octave." "Manners do change," returned Miss Chattaway, in tones she made as slighting as she dared. "It was only George Ryle, Aunt Diana." "Do you know where Maude is?" "No; I know nothing about her. I think if you gave Maude a word of reprimand instead of giving one to me, it might not be amiss, Aunt Diana. Since Rupert turned runagate--or renegade might be a better word--Maude has shamefully neglected her duties with Emily and Edith. She passes her time in the clouds and lets them run wild." "Had Rupert been your brother you might have done the same," curtly rejoined Miss Diana. "A shock like that cannot be lived down in a day. Allow me to give you a hint, Octave; should you lose Maude for the children, you will not so efficiently replace her." "We are not likely to lose her," said Octave, opening her eyes. "I don't know that. It is possible that we shall. George Ryle wants her." "Wants her for what?" asked Octave, staring very much. "He can want her but for one thing--to be his wife. It seems he has loved her for years." She quitted Octave as she said this, on her way up again to Mrs. Chattaway's room; never halting, never looking back at the still, white face, that seemed to be turning into stone as it was strained after her. In Mrs. Chattaway's sitting-room she found that lady and Maude. She entered suddenly and hastily, and had Miss Diana been of a suspicious nature it might have arisen then. In their close contact, their start of surprise, the expression of their haggard countenances, there was surely evidence of some unhappy secret. Miss Diana was closely followed by Mr. Chattaway. "Did you not hear me call?" he inquired of his sister-in-law. "No," she replied. "I only heard you on the stairs behind me. What is it?" "Read that," said Mr. Chattaway. He tossed an open letter to her. It was the one which had so put him out, rendering him incapable of attending to business. After digesting it alone in the best manner he could, he had now come to submit it to the keen and calm inspection of Miss Trevlyn. "Oh," said she carelessly, as she looked at the writing, "another letter from Connell and Connell." "Read it," repeated Mr. Chattaway, in low tones. He was too completely shaken to be anything but subdued.