"Not much!" said Mr. Parmalee, emphatically. "Never you mind, Sybilla. Before you become Mrs. P., you'll know it all safe enough. I'll write it at once."
He took a stumpy lead-pencil from his pocket, tore a leaf out of his pocket-book, and wrote these words:
MY LADY,—You knew the picture, and I know your secret. Should like to see you, if convenient, soon. That person is in London waiting to hear from me.
Your most obedient,
G. W. PARMALEE.
The photographer handed the scrawl to Sybilla.
"Read it."
"Well?" she said, taking it all in at a glance.
"Give her this. She'll see me before I leave this house, or I'm much mistaken. She's a very proud lady, this baronet's bride; but for all that she'll obey G. W. Parmalee's orders, or he'll know the reason why."