There was a knock and the butler entered with the blue form of a dépêche in his hand.
"Ah, here it is at last! This surely must be from Mr. Roger, Chalmers."
She took the telegram eagerly and tore it open, reading its contents with an expression of mingled joy and amazement.
"This is odd. It is sent from Cherbourg and says simply, 'Shall be with you Friday morning.' Friday! That's to-morrow. Why, he has arrived in France, and is catching the night train from Paris. That is a surprise, isn't it, Chalmers?"
"And miss, if you'll notice, it's addressed to Sir Charles, not to yourself."
"Is it? You are right, Chalmers. That looks as though he'd never got our cable, doesn't it? I suppose he couldn't if he was already on the water."
"Unless," suggested Esther, "they had sent it on by wireless to the boat."
"Of course, I didn't think of that. Anyhow, it doesn't matter now that he will be here so soon. He must have wanted to surprise us. We didn't expect him for another two months."
She turned briskly to the butler.
"Get the corner room ready, Chalmers. What a good thing we put the doctor at the back! And tell her ladyship we're expecting Mr. Roger—or no, I'll see to that myself."