t can I say?"

The tall, white figure, brush in hand, rose and stood over the elderly
woman in the chair. Rose had had the healthy development of a girlhood
in the country, but her regular features were more deeply marked now and
there were dark lines under her clear, blue eyes.

"Do you think," said the hostess in a brooding way, "that Mrs.
What's-her-name Green would tell you how much he lost, Rose, if you went
to her room? Of course, I can't possibly ask her."

"Oh no; she thinks me a goody-goody old frump."

At the same moment another brush at the splendid hair betrayed a
half-consciousness of the grace of her own movements.

"She wouldn't say a word to me--she is much more likely to tell one of
the men. Perhaps she will tell Edmund Grosse to-morrow; he is so easy to
talk to."

"But that's no use for to-night, and Groombridge will be simply furious
if I ask him to interfere without telling him how much it comes to.
Billy won't say a word."

"I think," said Rose very slowly, "that if we all go to bed now, we
shall have some bright idea in the morning."

Before this master-stroke of suggestion had reached Lady Groombridge's
brain, a very low voice came from the window.

"Would you like me to go and ask her?"

The hostess started; she had forgotten Miss Molly Dexter. A little dull
blush rose to her forehead.

"Oh dear, I had forgotten you were there; but, after all, she is no
relation of yours, and it isn't your fault, you know. Could you--would
you really not mind asking her?"

"I don't mind at all. Might I take your candle?"

"Of course," said Lady Groombridge, "you won't, don't you know----"

"Say that you sent me?" The low, detached voice betrayed no sarcasm. She
knew perfectly well that Lady Groombridge disliked being beholden to her
at that moment. It was rather amusing to make her so.

For fifteen minutes after that the travelling clock by Lady Rose's bed
ticked loudly, and drowned the faint murmur of her prayers while she
knelt at the _prie-dieu_.

Lady Groombridge knew Rose too well to be surprised. But she did not,
like the young widow, pass the time in prayer; she was worried--even
deeply so. She was of an anxious temperament, and she was really shocked
at what had happened.

Molly did not come back with any air of mystery, but with a curiously
negative look.

"Thirty-five pounds," she said very quietly.

Lady Groombridge sat up, very wide awake.

"More than half his allowance for a