"Is that you, Mordryn—Oh!—Why, of course you may come down to-morrow! Yes—London is hot. It will only be a dull party—Gwendoline and the Colvins and old Tom Hawthorne. I was merely going for rest myself. You don't mind, you would like that?—Oh! very well, come either by motor or the three o'clock train. All right—good-bye."
Then she looked at Katherine who met her eyes with a perfectly unmoved face.
"The Duke proposes himself to come to us to-morrow at Blissington, he is bored with London, and out of sorts."
But no joy appeared on the secretary's countenance; in fact she turned a shade paler, as she asked if she should transmit any orders to the housekeeper about his room.
"She feels things like the devil," Her Ladyship thought. "But Mordryn has evidently come to his senses, so they will presently settle the matter all right."
Katherine was glad that her duties now took her out shopping, she felt she must be in the open air and free to think.
What did this mean? Why was he coming to Blissington so suddenly? Would it produce a climax in her fate?
And as Mordryn had done the night before on his terrace overlooking the Green Park, so she too reviewed all their acquaintance and what it had grown to mean to her—something very bitter sweet.
Should she allow herself a fool's paradise for just a day? Should she let him make love to her, if that was his intention in coming to Blissington? But no, she must be firm with herself and act always as she thought right. But her mind was in a turmoil, and she felt tired and excited. The picture held out nothing but pain.
If he came and made love to her, she would have to cut his protestations short. And if he ignored her, that would hurt still more. She devoutly wished she might run away.