hope you had a nice drive this afternoon, my dear. And did Clinker go
well?" Clinker was the Dartmoor pony.

The Duchessa roused herself. She was evidently preoccupied about
something, thought Miss Tibbutt.

"Oh, yes, very well. And he has quite got over objecting to the little
stream by Crossways."

Miss Tibbutt nodded approvingly.

"I thought he would in time. So you went right over the Crossways. Which
way did you come home?"

"Over Stagmoor," said the Duchessa briefly.

"Stagmoor," echoed Miss Tibbutt. "My dear, that _is_ such a lonely road.
I should have been quite anxious had I known. Supposing you had an
accident it might be hours before any one found you. I suppose you didn't
see a soul?"

"Oh, just one man," returned the Duchessa carelessly.

"A labourer I suppose," queried Miss Tibbutt.

"Yes, only a labourer," responded the Duchessa quietly.

Miss Tibbutt was silent. She had a vague feeling of uneasiness, and yet
she did not know why she had it. She was perfectly certain that something
was wrong; and, whatever that something was, it had occurred between the
time Pia had set off in the pony-cart with Clinker after lunch, and her
return, very late for tea, in the evening. Also, Pia had said she didn't
want any tea, but had gone straight to her room. And that was unlike
her,--certainly unlike her. It would have been far more natural for her
to have ordered a fresh supply, and insisted on Miss Tibbutt sharing it
with her, quite oblivious of the fact that she had already had all the
tea she wanted, and was going to eat again at a quarter to eight.

"I walked over to Byestry," said Miss Tibbutt presently. "Yes, I know it
was very hot, but I walked slowly, and took my largest sunshade. I wanted
to get some black silk to mend one of my dresses. I saw Father Dormer. He
was very glad to hear that you were back. I told him you had only arrived
on Thursday, and I had come on the Tuesday to get things ready for you.
My dear, he told me Mr. Danver is dead."

"Mr. Danver," exclaimed the Duchessa, her preoccupation for the moment
forgotten.

"Yes. I wonder none of the servants happened to mention it. But I suppose
they forgot we didn't know, and probably they have forgotten all about
the poor man by now. It's sad to think how soon one _is_ forgotten. It
appears he went to London in March with Doctor Hilary to consult a
specialist and died the day after his arrival in town. Perhaps the
journey was too much for