"Cyprienne W."
"I will go down to her at once, say." And, seizing his hat, Mr. Faulks followed the messenger into the street, where he found Mrs. Wilders in her tiny brougham, at the door of the office.
"Oh, how good of you!" she said, putting out a little hand in a perfectly-fitting grey glove. "I would not disturb you for worlds, but I was so anxious."
"What has happened? Nothing serious, I trust?"
"I do not know. I cannot say. I am terribly upset."
"Do tell me all about it."
"Of course; that is why I came. But it will take some time. Will you get into the carriage? Are you going anywhere? I can take you, and tell you upon the road."
"I am afraid I cannot leave just at present." He had misgivings as to his arbitrary young chief. "But if I might suggest, and if you will honour me so far, will you not come upstairs to my room?"
"Oh! willingly, if you will allow me."
This was all that she wished. Very soon, escorted by her obsequious friend, she found herself in his arm-chair, pouring forth a long and intricate, not to say incomprehensible, story about Stanislas McKay. She had heard, she said—it was not necessary to say how--that they meant to send him on some secret expedition, full of danger, she understood, and she thought it such a pity—so wrong, so unfair!