Raymond Vandyck lost no time on his drive to Wardour Place; and before he could frame any sort of reasonable guess as to the possible meaning of Constance's note, he found himself in her very presence.
"Ah, Ray!" she exclaimed, extending a welcome hand, "you are promptness itself. I hardly dared hope to see you so soon."
"I met your messenger on the road, as I was riding in to keep an appointment with Heath," exclaimed Ray, "but as I was in company with Bradley, our new neighbor, you know, I did not open the note until I got to Heath's office. Then, as your note was urgent, and Heath's horse at the door, I took it, and here I am, very much at your service, Conny."
"And I don't know of another who could be of service to me just now, Ray," she said, seriously; "neither do I know just how to make use of you. Ray," suddenly, "are you burdened with a large amount of curiosity?"
"About the average amount, I think."
"Well! I am about to give that curiosity a severe test."
"Seriously, Conny, unless your secret concerns some one especially dear to me, I can survive being kept in the dark."
"And being made to work in the dark?"
"Yes, that too, under your orders, for I know I should risk nothing in obeying them."
"I should set you no dangerous or dishonorable task, of course, Ray."