She rushed to the hall-door herself, before Jasper could prevent her. Susan, coming into the hall to answer the imperative double knock, was sent back to the kitchen regions, in a cross voice, by her master.
"Really, Hilda," began Quentyns, "your impetuosity is most undignified. I must say that these kinds of scenes are——Now, what is the matter, my love—tears again. A coming home of this sort is not the most cheerful sort of thing, you must allow."
"Oh, Jasper, Jasper, I'm not even listening to you," said poor Hilda. "What can be the matter? what can be wrong? Here's a telegram from Mr. Rivers. He says—see what he says.
"'Little Staunton Rectory. Have brought Judy home. Will call and see you soon after ten this evening. Rivers.'"
"Rivers!" repeated Jasper.
His voice grew thoughtful; he did not like Rivers, of all men, to be mixed up in his domestic affairs. Rivers, at least, must keep him on a pedestal, and know nothing of his weaknesses—of that infirmity of temper which he struggled against, and yet, in Judy's presence, could not conquer. He forgot all about Judy herself in his wonder as to how Rivers had got mixed up in the matter.
Hilda had seated herself on the sofa, and still holding the open telegram in her hand, was trying furtively to wipe away her fast-falling tears.
"I wish you'd stop crying, Hilda," said her husband. "There's nothing to alarm you in this telegram—nothing whatever. If Judy is with a man like Tom Rivers, she's as safe as child can be."
"But she has gone home, Jasper; she has gone home to the Rectory, without even telling me."
"Well, my dear, it's impossible for me to explain away the vagaries of that most eccentric child. I presume, however, that Rivers has a key to the mystery, and as he says he will call here after ten o'clock, we shall know all about it then. No amount of discussion can explain it in advance. So, Hilda, perhaps you will go upstairs and get ready for dinner. I'm frightfully hungry."