“It has been here for two hours, Rose,” she said. “Do open it quickly. I am so anxious to know what is in it. Perhaps it is about Jack. Perhaps he is worse.”
“You poor little thing,” I replied. “Why did you not open the envelope yourself, if you are so upset with nervous terrors? Now let me see what this precious yellow envelope contains.”
“Well?” said Hetty.
I was reading the telegram to myself. My face showed heightened colour and annoyance.
“Well?” she said again. “Do speak, please, Rose.”
“It is nothing about Jack,” I said then.
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing at all; the telegram is from my home, but it is about—about another matter.”
This was the other matter—these were the contents of the telegram.
“Lady Ursula Redmayne and Captain Rupert Valentine have just been here, asking to see you. Will call at your lodgings in Putney, to-morrow, before eleven. Lady U. in great distress. Gave your address under pressure.”