Mansfield Road was reached at last.
Somewhat to her surprise, lights were in the dining-room window, and, as the wheels of her vehicle stopped, a hand drew aside the blind, and, some one looked eagerly out. Almost at once the hall door was flung open, and Wynifred painfully conscious of red and swollen eyelids, walked slowly in.
Osmond was holding back the door with such a pleasant, happy smile, as drove a fresh knife into her heart. Was she to be the messenger to dash his cup of joy from his lips, and tell him that his hopes lay in ruins all around him? She felt that it was impossible—at least, yet; and, before she had time to think more, Hilda's voice broke in from the dining-room:
"Is that you, Wyn? Do come in—there's some news—guess what has happened! Osmond and I waited up to tell you."
She walked in, feeling stiff, mazed, and as though the familiar room was strange to her. Sally, who was also standing by, participating in the general excitement, burst out—
"Bless me, Miss Wyn, whatever is the matter? You look like a ghost!"
"I am tired, Sally—dead beat—that is the only expression that conveys my meaning. I told you I was done up before I started, did I not?... I shall be—well again to-morrow. What is the news?"
Hilda's eyes were soft and almost tearful.
"Can't you guess?" she said.
Wyn flashed a look round, noting Jac's absence.