"I don't suspect," said Daphne, "I know how you tried to part me from Prince Mirliflor for ever—and how nearly you succeeded. He knows, too.... Oh, you are in no danger from us—we shall say nothing. But there is someone else who might."
"Not—not the Baron?" cried Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson, so thrown off her guard that she failed to see how completely the question gave her away.
"Yes," said Daphne gravely, "the Baron. You heard what the Court Godmother said about seeing him as soon as he returns? We have forbidden him to speak—but it's quite possible that she will get the truth out of him—and that might be rather disagreeable for you, mightn't it?"
"Very," agreed the trembling Mrs. Stimpson. "She'd have no mercy on me—on any of us!"
"I'm afraid not," said Daphne, "and she might not listen even to me. So—don't you think it would be wiser to change your mind about staying and go back to Gablehurst before she does see him?"
"Much," said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson in a half-choked voice—"much! if—if it can be arranged."
"I think it can. The journey to Clairdelune and back won't tire the storks—they will be quite able to take you over to England as soon as you are ready to start."
"We'll go and get ready at once," said Mrs. Stimpson, "so as not to keep the car waiting."
"You have plenty of time. It can't be here for some hours yet."
"Oh, I hope the Baron will make haste—and—and if your Majesty could only prevent him from seeing the Court Godmother till after we are gone!"