"Oh, no, immediately after I came down," said the girl in confusion. "I
don't know how long ago. I didn't look at the time." She busied herself
straightening the bed.

"Sybil, she doesn't know how long ago," said Jack. "She's been behaving
as I never have heard of any properly trained nurse behaving. She's been
kissing me."

"Oh, Jack," gasped Kathleen, flushing furiously.

"Kissing you!" exclaimed Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, looking from one to the
other.

"Yes, and I have been kissing her," continued Jack shamelessly.

"Oh, Jack," again gasped Kathleen, looking at Mrs. Waring-Gaunt
beseechingly.

"Yes," continued Jack in a voice of triumph, "and we are going to do it
right along every day and all day long with suitable pauses for other
duties and pleasures."

"Oh, you darling," exclaimed Mrs. Waring-Gaunt rushing at her. "I am
so glad. Well, you are a 'wunner' as the Marchioness says. I had
thought--but never mind. Jack, dear, I do congratulate you. I think you
are in awful luck. Yes, and you too, Kathleen, for he is a fine boy. I
will go and tell Tom this minute."

"Do," said Jack, "and please don't hurry. My nurse is perfectly
competent to take care of me in the meantime."

CHAPTER XV

THE COMING OF JANE

At sixteen-forty-five the Waring-Gaunt car was standing at the Melville
Station awaiting the arrival of the train which was to bring Jane and
her father, but no train was in sight. Larry, after inquiry at the
wicket, announced that she was an hour late. How much more the agent,
after the exasperating habit of railroad officials, could not say, nor
could he assign any reason for the delay.

"Let me talk to him," said Nora impatiently. "I know Mr. Field."

Apparently the official reserve in which Mr. Field had wrapped himself
was not proof against the smile which Nora flung at him through the
wicket.

"We really cannot say how late she will be, Miss Nora. I may tell
you, but we are not saying anything about it, that there has been an
accident."

"An accident!" exclaimed Nora. "Why, we are expecting--"

"No, there is no one hurt. A freight has been derailed, and torn up the
track a bit. The passenger train is held up just beyond Fairfield. It
will be a couple of hours, perhaps three, before she arrives." At this
point the telegraph instrument clicked. "Just a minute, Miss Nora, there
may be something on the wire." With his fingers on the key he executed
some mysterious prestidigitations, wrote do