he heard Lucy come
downstairs and knew that she meant to wish her good-morning. She hid the
paper hurriedly.

When Lucy came in and kissed her, she said:

'What is the news this morning?'

'I don't think there is any,' said Lady Kelsey, uneasily. 'Only the
_Post_ has come; we shall really have to change our newsagent.'

She waited with beating heart for Lucy to pursue the subject, but
naturally enough the younger woman did not trouble herself. She talked
to her aunt of the preparations for the party that evening, and then,
saying that she had much to do, left her. She had no sooner gone than
Lady Kelsey's maid came back to say that Lomas was out of town and not
expected back till the evening. Distractedly Lady Kelsey sent messages
to her nephew and to Mrs. Crowley. She still looked upon Bobbie as
Lucy's future husband, and the little American was Lucy's greatest
friend. They were both found. Boulger had gone down as usual to the
city, but in consideration of Lady Kelsey's urgent request, set out at
once to see her.

He had changed little during the last four years, and had still a boyish
look on his round, honest face. To Mrs. Crowley he seemed always an
embodiment of British philistinism; and if she liked him for his
devotion to Lucy, she laughed at him for his stolidity. When he arrived,
Mrs. Crowley was already with Lady Kelsey. She had known nothing of the
terrible letter, and Lady Kelsey, thinking that perhaps it had escaped
him too, went up to him with the _Daily Mail_ in her hand.

'Have you seen the paper, Bobbie?' she asked excitedly. 'What on earth
are we to do?'

He nodded.

'What does Lucy say?' he asked.

'Oh, I've not let her see it. I told a horrid fib and said the newsagent
had forgotten to leave it.'

'But she must know,' he answered gravely.

'Not to-day,' protested Lady Kelsey. 'Oh, it's too dreadful that this
should happen to-day of all days. Why couldn't they wait till to-morrow?
After all Lucy's troubles it seemed as if a little happiness was coming
back into her life, and now this dreadful thing happens.'

'What are you going to do?' asked Bobbie.

'What can I do?' said Lady Kelsey desperately. 'I can't put the dance
off. I wish I had the courage to write and ask Mr. MacKenzie not to
come.'

Bobbie made a slight gesture of impatience. It irritated him that his
aunt should harp continually on the subject of this wretched dance. But
for all that he tried to reassure her.

'I don