When Vixen came down to breakfast next morning she found the table laid only for three.
"What has become of Lord Mallow?" she asked Forbes, when he brought in the urn.
"He left by an early train, ma'am. Captain Winstanley drove him to Lyndhurst."
The old servants of the Abbey House had not yet brought themselves to speak of their new lord as "master." He was always "Captain Winstanley."
The Captain came in while Violet knelt by the fire playing with Argus, whom even the new rule had not banished wholly from the family sitting-rooms.
The servants filed in for morning prayers, which Captain Winstanley delivered in a cold hard voice. His manual of family worship was of concise and businesslike form, and the whole ceremony lasted about seven minutes. Then the household dispersed quickly, and Forbes brought in his tray of covered dishes.
"You can pour out the tea, Violet. Your mother is feeling a little tired, and will breakfast in her room."
"Then I think, if you'll excuse me, I'll have my breakfast with her," said Vixen. "She'll be glad of my company, I daresay."
"She has a headache and will be better alone. Stop where you are, if you please, Violet. I have something serious to say to you."
Vixen left off pouring out the tea, clasped her hands in her lap, and looked at Captain Winstanley with the most resolute expression he had ever seen in a woman's face.