Lady Hetherington was far more interested in the fact that the secretary had given warning, as she persisted in calling it, than her husband had anticipated. She had always, except when temporarily aroused on the occasion of the accident, been so determined to ignore Mr. Joyce's existence, or had treated him with such marked coldness when compelled to acknowledge it, that his lordship was quite astonished to see how interested she showed herself, how she persisted in cross-questioning him as to what Joyce had stated to be the cause of his leaving, and as to whether he had mentioned it to any other person in the house. On being assured by her husband that he had come straight to her boudoir after parting with the secretary, Lady Hetherington seemed pleased, and strictly enjoined the little lord not to mention it to any one. They were a very small party at dinner that day, only Mr. Biscoe being present in addition to the members of the family. The conversation was not very brisk, the countess being full of the coming London season, a topic on which Mr. Biscoe, who hated town, and never went near it when he could help it, could scarcely expect to be enthusiastic, Lord Hetherington being always silent, and Lady Caroline on this occasion preoccupied. But when the cloth was removed, and the servants had left the room, Lady Hetherington, in the interval of playing with a few grapes, looked across at her sister-in-law, and said-- "By the way, Caroline, Lord Hetherington's secretary has given warning!" "You mean that Mr. Joyce is going away, is that it? I thought so, but you have such a curious way of putting things, Margaret!" "How should I have put it? I meant exactly what I said!" "Oh, of course, if you choose to import the phraseology of the servants'-hall into your conversation, you are at perfect liberty to do so." "Anyhow, the fact remains the same. We are to be bereaved of the great secretary! Weren't you astonished when I told you?" "Not the least in the world!" "Because you had heard it before?" "Exactly!" "From Lord Hetherington?" "Oh no!" laughed Lady Caroline; "don't scold poor dear West on the idea that he had anticipated you! I heard it from Mr. Joyce himself." "Oh, of course you did!" said Lady Hetherington, slightly tossing her head. "Well, of course you're very much grieved. He was such a favourite of yours." "Just because I like Mr. Joyce very much, or, as you phrase it, because he is a favourite of mine, I'm very pleased to think that he's going away. A man of his abilities is lost in his present position." "I quite agree with you, Lady Caroline," said Mr. Biscoe. "Sound scholar, Mr. Joyce, clear head, well grounded, and quick at picking up--good fellow, too!" "I'm sure," said Lord Hetherington, "I've grown so accustomed to him, I shall feel like--what's-his-name--fish out of water without him."