It was considerably past five o\'clock before our lovers found themselves back at the cottage, where Lady Pell and Mrs. Tew were awaiting their arrival in order to have tea brought in. When it was over Lady Pell drew Ethel aside.

"Well, my dear, and so he has summoned up courage to speak it last," she said. "I have seen what was coming for a long time, but I certainly thought him somewhat dilatory in bringing matters to a climax. However, all\'s well that ends well. I congratulate you most heartily. I approve your choice, and so I am sure, will Sir Gilbert when I tell him. Don\'t say anything now. You and I will have a long talk together in the morning."

Then while the horses were being brought round, she contrived to have a few words with Everard.

"So you have taken an old woman\'s advice, I find. Of one thing I am quite sure, that you will never have cause to repent having done so. You are a fortunate fellow. You have secured a treasure. Indeed, I\'m far from sure that she\'s not a long way too good for you."

"There I quite agree with you, Lady Pell. Where, indeed, should we find a man worthy of her? But is not that a very good reason why Miss Thursby should have condescended to accept me? We should always try to improve our fellow-creatures where improvement is needed. And that in my case she will find ample scope for her efforts, no one knows better than myself."

He spoke gravely enough, but there was a lurking smile in his eyes which Lady Pell did not fail to note.

"You men have quite a wonderful gift for preaching one doctrine before marriage and its exact opposite after. Then you discover that it is yourselves who are perfection and your poor wives who are deficient in this, that or the other quality which you never seemed to take account of before. But it has always been so, and I suppose it always will be."

She was on the point of turning away.

"One moment, Lady Pell," said Everard. "I have not yet told you how deeply grateful I am for the advice you gave me this morning. To that, in a great measure, I owe my present happiness. It gave me just the impulse I needed; it was the spur to urge me forward on the road I ought to go. My sincerest thanks will be yours to the last day of my life."

He was earnest enough now, there could be no mistake on that score.

"Wait till you have been floundering in the quicksands of matrimony for half-a-dozen years and then maybe you will tell a different tale," laughed Lady Pell.

Evening had closed in by the time our party reached the Chase. It was Trant in person, and not one of the footmen, who opened the door for them. He was evidently perturbed; so much so, in fact, that the knot of his white tie had worked itself round under his left ear without his being aware of it. Lady Pell saw at a glance that something was amiss. "What is it, Trant," she asked quickly. "Sir Gilbert----?" Something rose in her throat, but her eyes asked the question her lips refused to finish.

"Sir Gilbert, my lady, is not very well; nothing to be frightened at, if I may take the liberty of saying so," he made haste to add. "If your ladyship will allow me," he went on in a lower voice, "I should like to tell you what I know of the affair before you see Sir Gilbert."

Lady Pell at once led the way to the anteroom. The butler opened the door, bowed her in and followed.

"All morning Sir Gilbert was shut up in his study as usual," began Trant. "At luncheon his appetite was very poor, but he seemed tolerably cheerful. At six o\'clock, after I had taken him a glass of Madeira and a biscuit, he went into the hall, put on his soft hat, lighted a cigar and went for a stroll on the terrace, and about half-an-hour later, happening to look through the dining-room window, I saw him going slowly down the steps towards the lower grounds. By this the evening was getting quite dusky. It might have been a quarter of an hour, or twenty minutes later, when I heard the library bell rung sharply. I hurried in and found Sir Gilbert lying back in his easy-chair, looking quite dazed like--in fact, for half a minute or more he stared at me as if he didn\'t know who I was. \'You rang, sir,\' says I. \'Eh?\' says he. \'Did I ring, Trant? I don\'t remember ringing. And I don\'t remember how I got here. How did I get here, Trant?\' shutting his eyes and pressing his hand to his forehead as if trying to bring back something he had forgotten. \'Don\'t know at all, sir,\' says I. \'The bell rang and I answered it.\' \'It\'s very strange, and I can\'t make it out at all,\' says he. \'Be good enough to shut that window, and then bring me a little brandy in a liqueur glass; and, Trant, let me know when the ladies get back from their excursion.\'"

Lady Pell had listened with growing impat............