"I? Oh, yes, indeed!" laughed the girl. "I could be ready in an hour! I do detest waiting—don't you, Mrs. Ralston?"
"Very much, just now," said that lady, making an effort to smile; "forgive me, dear friends, but I am really unstrung. The thought of being hunted by that man is too horrible, after these years of peace."
"Then don't think of it, dear Mrs. Ralston," cooed Claire. "You will be as safe as safe in the seclusion of my sister's villa. And you can set things straight soon, when we have arrived. There can't be much to fear, can there, Mr. Allyne?"
"Nothing very formidable," said the banker, rising to take his leave. "Pray, don't exaggerate the trouble, Mrs. Ralston. Prompt attention, such as Lord will give the matter, will make all safe. Besides, he is not hunting you; the man thinks you dead."
"True; I had forgotten," said the lady, looking somewhat reassured. "Claire, we will pack to-night, and then try and be content until it is time to go."
"Meantime, I will telegraph to Lord and let him know that you will come, and when," said Mr. Allyne, taking up his hat to depart.
The morning of their departure dawned clear and bright. Claire was in extravagant spirits, while even Mrs. Ralston seemed to catch the infectious cheeriness of the day, and her companion's mood.
When they were about to enter the carriage that was to take them to the depot, a letter was put into the hand of Miss Keith. She flung back her veil and leaning back among the cushions perused it in attentive silence. Having finished, she looked up with a little frown upon her brow, and exclaimed:
"How very provoking!"
Mrs. Ralston looked alarmed. "Is your sister ill?"