'I had to come,' Gladys made reply, and she kissed them both with a perfectly grave face. 'Will you do something for me, Mrs. Fordyce?'
'Why, certainly, my dear. But what is the matter with you? You look as melancholy as an owl.'
'Will you send a servant to Gorbals Mill, to ask your nephew to come here on his way home from business? I want to see him very particularly.'
It was a very natural and simple request, but somehow Mrs. Fordyce experienced a sense of uneasiness as she heard it.
'Why, certainly. But will a telegram not do as well? It will catch him more quickly. He is often away early just now; there is so much to see about at Dowanhill.'
At Dowanhill was situated the handsome town house George Fordyce had taken for his bride, but the allusion to it had no effect on Gladys except to make her give her lips a very peculiar compression.
'How stupid of me not to think of a telegram! Will you please send it out at once?'
'From myself?'
'Yes, please.'
She brought Mrs. Fordyce her writing materials, the telegram was written, and the maid who brought in the tea took it down-stairs.