I shall be at home to-morrow afternoon, and shall be very glad to see you. I am sorry to learn that you are about to leave Hetherford, and somewhat surprised also, as I had no idea that your departure was imminent.
Yours very sincerely,
Jean Lawrence.
The written words looked cold and formal, and with a tender feeling of compunction Jean raised the bit of paper to her lips.
"I would be more kind, dear, if I dared," she murmured softly.
The old Dutch clock in the corner of the hall-way was chiming the hour of three the following afternoon, when Jean opened the door of her room, and started to descend the wide staircase. From below voices floated up to her, and when she reached the landing she paused and, leaning over the banisters, looked down upon the girls who were standing near the open front door. Nathalie caught sight of her, and smiled blithely.
"Don't you want to come with us, Jean? We are going over to the inn for a game of tennis."
Jean shook her head.
"I am going to be thoroughly domestic this afternoon," she announced with a conscious little laugh.
At the sound of her voice Miss Stuart glanced sharply over her shoulder. There flashed into her mind the recollection of Farr's note to Jean the previous day. She closed her lips tightly as she followed Helen and Nathalie out upon the veranda, and was singularly silent as they sauntered leisurely across the lawn. When they were almost at the gates, she turned to Helen, a distressed expression on her lovely face.
"Would you mind very much if I should turn back? I have had a slight headache all day, and the sun seems to make it so much worse."