She mounted the stairs to her room, stopping on the way to exchange a few words and embraces with her mother, who was overjoyed to see her darling child so well and happy.
Vane made a careful, simple toilet; she exchanged her long pink gown for a dainty white cambrice, chose a large white hat and gloves of a light tan shade, and, after bidding her maid place them in readiness, descended to the hall just as her aunt arrived.
Mrs. Crosbie was dismissing her groom with the ponies when Vane interrupted.
“Forgive me, auntie, dear,” she said, lightly, “but may I have the carriage this afternoon? I have an errand to perform in the village.”
Mrs. Crosbie looked surprised for an instant; then she said, affably:
“Certainly, my dear. At what time shall Tims bring it round?”
“About five o’clock. Many thanks, Aunt Constance,” she added, prettily, as Mrs. Crosbie gave the desired order.
Luncheon progressed slowly and rather silently. Lady Charteris chatted away to the squire, and Mrs. Crosbie dilated in her proud, cold way upon mission work. Sir Douglas ate and spoke little, while Vane discussed the delicacies in silence.
Several times in the course of the meal she was struck by the strange expression on Sir Douglas Gerant’s face; there was a glow of animation, a look of eagerness that surprised her, and she decided mentally that he was pondering some great problem, when she saw his brows darken and his jaw set with determination. She herself had many momentous thoughts troubling her; but her manner was placidly serene. She was awaiting her opportunity to speak alone with Mrs. Crosbie, and thought to effect her purpose immediately after luncheon.
In this, however, she was foiled; her aunt was claimed by the housekeeper on account of domestic affairs, and it was past four o’clock before she was liberated.