e
came into the dining-room, where Nance was already reading her morning
letters. With a slightly absorbed manner she kissed her sister and,
passing round the breakfast-table, picked up her own correspondence.

In a perfunctory way she turned the envelopes over until one arrested
her attention, as being intimately connected with her thoughts.

It was a letter from Deerehurst, and she tore it open hastily, skimming
the contents with an eager glance.

"DEAR LITTLE LADY," it began,

"Yesterday the fates who watch over my affairs were unkind. The
afternoon was frankly a failure. But I shall claim recompense; I
shall look in upon you in your box at the Apollo at nine to-night.
A vexatious business matter calls me out of town to-day, or I
should strive to see you earlier. But at nine make me welcome.

"Always devotedly,

"DEEREHURST."

She finished reading the note, then laid it down and hurriedly picked
up another letter. How annoying it was! How malicious of Chance!

The second letter proved to be from Lady Frances Hope; it was from
Brittany, and reproached her extravagantly for not having written since
they parted at Tuffnell. Imploring for news of her movements, it
informed her that the writer, with Mrs. Bathurst and Valentine
Serracauld, was on her way back to London. She followed the lines
mechanically, but her mind was elsewhere. At last she threw the letter
down.

"Nance!" she said suddenly.

"Darling?"

"Nance, I'm in a horrid difficulty."

Nance's high, arched eyebrows drew together in a frown of concern.

"Nothing bad?" she said. "Nothing about Walter?"

"No. Yes--yes it is. You know Walter dislikes Lord Deerehurst. Well, he
was vexed at finding him here yesterday; and after he had gone I--I
promised not to see him any more--I promised to break off my friendship
with him."

Nance nodded, tactfully refraining from any joy in the proving of her
theories.

"Yes?" she prompted softly.

"And now Lord Deerehurst writes that he will be at the Apollo to-night,
and is coming round to our box at nine."

Nance pursed up her lips.

"Oh!" she said. "And you'll have to put him off?"

"That's the annoying thing. I can't. At least, not easily."

"Why?"

"Because he's going into the country to-day, and won't be back till
evening."

"Send him a note. He must go home to dress before going to the
theatre."

"He might dress and dine at his club."

"Write to his club as