"I met Johnnie Matthews at the gate, dear. He was on his way to the manor with a note for you, and, since it required no answer, I volunteered to bring it up."
"Thanks, Eleanor. I suppose Mrs. Matthews wants me to take her class again next Sunday. She has been ill."
Eleanor had dropped the note into Jean's lap and was moving away, but something in her friend's voice startled her. She looked at her curiously, but in that light she could not discern her expression. She hesitated a moment, and then sat down on the arm of Jean's chair.
"How is Gladys to-night?" she asked.
Jean made an effort to speak more naturally.
"Very comfortable, thank you. The doctor says her arm is doing nicely, and so far she has not had any fever."
"Eleanor, did you know the Vortex had gone?"
As Nathalie spoke Eleanor impulsively took Jean's hand in hers. It was very cold, and trembled in her clasp. Jean's unhappiness was explained, and at the same moment another idea flashed through her mind. She answered Nathalie with well-feigned lightness:
"It can't be more than a temporary absence, I am sure." Then added in a lower tone to Jean, "Don't you want to read your note, dearie? It may not be from Mrs. Matthews."
Jean gave a start, and, instinctively, her disengaged hand closed over the note in her lap.