"Oh, I was quite forgetting," he said more brightly. "The under-steward
has turned out the two Tillys, quite on his own authority: you must
remember them, two brothers, blacksmiths, who drank a great deal and
paid very little, and created so much scandal in the place."

"I object to the under-steward doing any such thing without referring to
me first," Lady Beltham exclaimed warmly. "Man's duty is to persuade and
forgive, not to judge and punish. Kindness breeds kindness, and it is
pity that wins amendment. Why should a subordinate, my under-steward,
presume to do what I would not permit myself to do?"

She had sprung to her feet and was pacing excitedly about the room; she
had wholly dropped the impassive mask she habitually wore, concealing
her real personality.

The three girls watched her in silence.

The door opened anew, and Silbertown came in, the major-domo of Lady
Beltham's establishment at Neuilly. He brought the evening letters, and
the girls speedily took all the envelopes and newspapers from the tray
and began to sort and open them, while the major-domo entered into
conversation with his mistress, and the Rev. William Hope seized the
opportunity to say good night, and take his leave.

Many of the letters were merely appeals to help in money or in kind,
but one long letter Lisbeth handed to Lady Beltham. She glanced at the
signature.

"Ah, here is news of M. Etienne Rambert," she exclaimed, and as Therese
instinctively drew near, knowing that she, too, might hear something of
what her old friend had written, Lady Beltham put the letter into her
hand. "You read it, my dear, and then you can tell me presently what he
has to say."

Therese read the letter eagerly. M. Etienne Rambert had left Paris a
week before, upon a long and important journey. The energetic old fellow
was to make a trip in Germany first, and then go from Hamburg to
England, where he had some business to attend to on behalf of Lady
Beltham, with whom he was on more confidential terms than ever. Then he
meant to sail from Southampton and spend the winter in Colombia, where
he had important interests of his own to look after.

While Therese was reading, Lady Beltham continued her conversation with
her major-domo.

"I am glad you had the park gate seen to this afternoon," she said. "You
know how nervous I am. My childhood in Scotland was very lonely, and
ever since then I have had a vague terror of solitude and darkness."

The ma