"I came to see if you would care to drive down to Ranelagh with me this morning," she said, "but you are evidently fit for nothing except to go back to bed again. I won't forget the cheque, and remember me to your uncle. By the bye, where's that nice young man who used to be always with you down in the country?"
"You must mean Mr. Lindsay," Clara answered. "I have no idea. At Blakely, I suppose."
"If I were you," Berenice said, as she rose, "I should write to him to come up and look after you. You need it!"
She nodded pleasantly and took her leave. Clara threw herself into a chair and rang the bell.
"Perkins," she said, "I have had no sleep and no breakfast. What should you recommend?"
"An egg beaten up in milk, miss," the man suggested, "same as I've just taken Mr. Mannering."
"Is my uncle up?" Clara asked.
"Not yet, miss," the man answered; "He is just dressing."
Clara nodded.
"Very well. Please get me what you said, and if Sir Leslie Borrowdean calls I want to see him at once."