"Well?" he asked, facing round.
"It's all right. She will see you," replied the housekeeper, and, catching up his hat and stick, Beaumont followed her along the passage to the oak parlour.
Una and Miss Cassy, both in deep mourning, were seated at the breakfast-table when he entered, and as the door closed on Patience, he apologised for disturbing them.
"Of course I would not have thought of intruding on your grief," he said, in a courtly manner, "but the fact is, Miss Challoner, I have a message for you from Doctor Nestley."
"Ah, poor, dear doctor," whimpered Miss Cassy, dabbing her red eye-lids with a pocket handkerchief. "He's gone away--so very odd."
"I don't think so, aunt," observed Una quietly. "He had done all he could for my poor cousin, and now it would be merely wasting his time for him to remain. What is the message, Mr. Beaumont?"
"Just to give you these keys," he said, handing the bunch to her. "They belonged to the squire, and Nestley picked them up after the death, intending to give them to you, only he forgot all about them till it was too late, so asked me to bring them to you."
Una took the keys with a grave bow.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Beaumont," she said, putting them in her pocket. "It was very kind of you to bring them. I trust Doctor Nestley is well?"
Beaumont shrugged his shoulders, the meaning of which action she understood with feminine quickness.