ety of ways, doing all
she could to be useful.

About half-past four she went to her own room to put herself tidy for
tea. As she was in the act of brushing her hair before the mirror,
Lady Clifford's maid, Aline, entered after a perfunctory knock and
informed her briefly that her ladyship wished to speak with her in the
boudoir.

"Certainly, I'll come at once," she replied, laying down the brush, and
not altogether liking the sidelong glance the woman bestowed upon her
out of her close-set eyes, nor the way she lingered unnecessarily
inside the door.

Entering the boudoir, she sensed at once an altered atmosphere,
something not easy to describe, yet part of the general, rapid,
business-like readjustment she had observed going on for the past two
days. Next her attention was riveted by the chic, black-clad figure of
her employer, standing in the centre of the pale grey carpet, minus her
voluminous, inky veil which, during the early half of the day, had
transformed her into a creature of mystery. Her mourning was
exceedingly elegant and smart. Esther, gazing fascinated, wondered in
spite of herself how long before Sir Charles's death it had been
planned. She had never been able to rid her memory of the fashion-book
incident.

The veil shed, Lady Clifford stood revealed as a figure electric with
renewed energy. Her eyes shone like grey stars, her hair, freshly
waved, was glossily golden, one foot in its well-cut suede shoe tapped
the floor with nervous impatience. Her hands, milky-white against the
dead black of her dress, waved in the air a cheque upon which the ink
was still wet. Esther caught a glimpse of the almost crimson enamelled
nails, while a breath of the characteristic perfume wafted towards her.

The next instant she drew in her breath sharply, for, in a metallic
voice, the Frenchwoman had informed her that her services were no
longer required and that she was at liberty to leave at once.

"Yes, certainly, Lady Clifford, I will go immediately," Esther heard
herself saying in a collected tone, though the blood was singing in her
ears.

What was it all about? What had happened?

"I have made the cheque out for an extra week," the ringing voice
continued carelessly, "since in all probability your engagement here
terminated rather sooner than you expected."

"Oh, no, please, Lady Clifford, I couldn't take it, really! Will you
alter the amount? I haven't earned it, you know."

"Certainly no