"I took home poor Miss Patchett in my fly, from the station," went on Lucy, who seemed to be running from one topic to another, perhaps to divert attention from herself. "She had been to London to engage a servant, and looked ready to drop with the heat. Did you ever know it so hot before, Theresa?" "I think not. Not for a continuancy. Is Sir Karl going to take any tea? There's nothing else so refreshing these sultry evenings." "He says tea only makes him hotter," returned Lucy with a smile. "Ring the bell, please, Theresa: you are nearer to it than I am." Giles appeared, in answer, and was sent by Lucy to inquire whether his master would take tea, or not. The message brought forth Karl. The moon was shining right on the table. "I'll drink a cup of tea if you will put in plenty of milk to cool it," said he. "How romantic you look here, sitting in the moonlight! Thank you, Lucy." "We are glad to do without lights so long as we can in this weather," observed Miss Blake. "They make the room warmer." He drank the tea standing, and went back again. Lucy sent the tray away, and presently ordered the lights. She then ensconced herself in an easy chair with one of the romances Karl had brought her on the Saturday: and Miss Blake strolled out of doors. At first Lucy held the book upside-down. Then she read a page three times over, and could not comprehend it. Ah, it was of no use, this playing at light-hearted ease. She might keep up the farce tolerably well before people; but when alone with herself and her misery, it was a senseless mockery. Leaving the book behind her, she went wandering about from room to room. The windows of all were put open, to catch what little air there might be. As she stood in one of the unlighted rooms, Sir Karl passed along the terrace. She drew back lest he should see her, and heard him go into the lighted drawing-room and call her. "Lucy!" Not a word would she answer. She just stood back against the wall in the dark beyond the curtain, and kept still. He went out again, and began pacing the opposite path in the shade cast by the overhanging trees. Lucy watched him. Suddenly he plunged in amidst the trees, and she heard one of the private gates open and close. "He is gone _there_," she said, the pulses of her heart quickening and her face taking a ghastly tinge in the moonlight. Miss Blake, who had been also lingering in the garden, in some of its shaded nooks and corners, her thoughts busy with Guy Cattacomb and with certain improvements that reverend man was contemplating to introduce at St. Jerome's, had also seen Sir Karl, and watched his stealthy exit. She immediately glided to another of the small private gates of egress, cautiously opened it, and looked out.