"I am not very well, my love," she replied, adjusting her spectacles, "but not positively ill. I had a threatening of one of those tiresome spasms in the night. I dare say it will pass off in an hour or two."
Di scrutinized her grandmother remorsefully.
"I never noticed you were feeling ill when I came in before breakfast," she said.
"My dear, you are generally the first to observe how I am," returned Mrs. Courtenay, hurriedly. "I was feeling better just then, but—and we are due at Carmyan to-day. It is very provoking."
Di looked perturbed.
"The others are gone," she said; "even the painter has just driven off. Do you think you will be able to travel by the afternoon, granny?"
"I am afraid not," said Mrs. Courtenay, closing her eyes; "but I think—I feel sure I could go to-morrow."
"To-morrow is Sunday."
"Dear me! so it is," said Mrs. Courtenay, with mild surprise. "To-day is Saturday. It certainly is unfortunate. But after all," she continued, "it could not have happened at a better place. Miss Fane is a good-natured person and will quite understand, and John is a relation. Perhaps you had better tell Miss Fane I am feeling unwell, and ask her to come here; and before you go pull down the blinds half-way, and put that sheaf of her 'lost tribes' and 'unicorns' and 'stone ages' on the bed."