"Not a bit," Joan smiled at him. "Only a little tired. . . . Even the laziest days are sometimes a little exacting!" She laughed softly. "And you're rather an exacting person, you know. . . ."
She led the way into the drawing-room, and Vane was duly introduced to
Lady Auldfearn.
"There are some letters for you, Joan," said her aunt. "I see there's one from your father. Perhaps he'll say in that whether he intends coming up to town or not. . . ."
With a murmured apology Joan opened her mail, and Vane stood chatting with the old lady.
"I hope you won't think me rude, Captain Vane," she said after a few commonplaces; "but I have arrived at the age when to remain out of bed for one instant after one wishes to go there strikes me as an act of insanity." She moved towards the door and Vane opened it for her with a laugh. "I hope I shall see you again." She held out her hand, and Vane bent over it.
"It's very good of you, Lady Auldfearn," he answered. "I should like to come and call. . . ."
"You can ask at the door if Joan is in," she continued. "If she isn't,
I sha'n't be at all offended if you go away again."
Vane closed the door behind her, and strolled back towards the fireplace. "A woman of great discernment is your aunt, Joan." He turned towards her, and suddenly stood very still. "What is it, my dear? . . . Have you had bad news?"
With a letter crumpled up in her hand she was staring at the floor, and she gave a little, bitter laugh. "Not even one day, Derek; the kindly Fates wouldn't even give us that. . . ."
She looked at the letter once again, and read part of it, while Vane watched her with a hopeless feeling of impending trouble.