here for Sir John; we'll have a nice quiet time."

"My dear, I'm afraid he'll be terribly offended."

"No, mother, he won't; at least, not with you. Now, do go the theatre
and be happy. Take Annie and Nora, and let them enjoy themselves. I
promise you that you shall have serene skies on your return. Can't you
trust me? Did you ever find me fail you yet when I promised you
anything?"

"No, I never did, you queer, queer creature."

Mrs. Bernard Temple was restored to good humour. Dinner passed off
pleasantly, and immediately afterwards a cab conveyed three of the party
to the Lyceum.

Antonia had donned her rusty brown velveteen dress, and sat with her
hands folded in front of her in a deep armchair.

Her black hair was combed high over her forehead; her eyes were bright.
Anxiety had brought a slight colour into her cheeks; she looked almost
handsome.

At about twenty minutes past nine a cab was heard to stop at the door,
and a moment later Sir John Thornton was ushered into the drawing-room.

"How do you do?" he said, in a stiff voice, to Antonia. "Where is your
mother? Her telegram has startled me a good deal."

"It was my telegram," said Antonia, in a calm voice.

"Well, that does not matter. Will you have the goodness to inform your
mother that I am here?"

"I can't very well at the present moment, for she is enjoying herself at
the Lyceum."

Sir John's face grew scarlet. He drew himself up to his stiffest
attitude, and compressed his lips firmly together.

"Perhaps you feel annoyed," said Antonia, "and I don't think I am
surprised. Will you sit down and let me explain matters?"

"Pray do nothing of the kind. I can wait until Mrs. Bernard Temple comes
home. When is the play likely to be over?"

"I expect mother and Annie and Nora back about half-past eleven. It is
now half-past nine. Have you had dinner?"

"No."

"Will you come downstairs, and let me give you something to eat?"

"No, thank you. As your mother is not at home, I shall dine at my club,
and come back later on."

"No, you won't," said Antonia.

She started up, and placed herself between Sir John and the door. He
felt himself groaning inwardly. Was that awful girl mad? What did her
strange telegram mean? And why, if Mrs. Bernard Temple sent for him in a
hurry, had she not the civility to wait at home to see him? This was
really taking matters with a free-and-easy hand with a vengeance. The
proud Sir John had never felt more thoro