But she was disappointed. Deftly Mrs. Aubyn tore the envelope and scanned the contents.
"No answer, Jane," she announced, in a steady voice.
Not until the maid had closed the door did the old lady betray the anguish that the telegram had caused.
"God grant that he is not blinded or crippled for life," she exclaimed, in low, earnest tones; then she re-read the momentous words of the telegram in the vain hope that she had not rightly grasped its significance, and that on second reading the message might not appear so terribly grim:—
"Regret to have to inform you that Sub-Lieutenant Terence Aubyn, R.N.R., is lying here seriously wounded."
The telegram was dispatched from Shotley Naval Hospital and bore the signature of one of the medical officers.
"Seriously wounded," she repeated. "An accident, perhaps. I must go to my boy."
She had read all the important news in the morning paper. There had been no mention of a naval engagement, so there could be no other explanation of how Terence received his injuries. She was thankful indeed that she had not gone to Portsmouth for the day with her sister. Thankful, also, that the said relative was not in the house, for in contrast to the presence of mind displayed by Mrs. Aubyn, Miss Wilson possessed a highly-strung temperament that frequently expressed itself in hysterical outbursts.
Mrs. Aubyn consulted a time-table and then rang the bell.
"Jane," said the old lady in even tones, "I want you to run across to Smith's and order a taxi to take me to the station at once, to catch the 9.15 train."