She had a great many questions to ask Sallie then, questions which Sallie, in such a situation, might have found it very difficult to answer but for Jasper Slyne's sharp ears and tactful tongue. And the duchess was not slow to understand.
"Of course you can't confide in me yet," she declared laughingly. "But some day you must tell me all your adventures. Your home-coming after all these years will make a nine days' wonder once the papers get to hear of it."
A servant came in to light the lamps, and Slyne sauntered to a window before the curtains were drawn.
"It's snowing again, Ingoldsby," said he. "You won't get back to Dawn to-night."
The duchess looked a little alarmed, but was soon laughing again.
"All right," she agreed, in response to Sallie's prompt proffer of hospitality. "I'll be most happy to stay over-night—and so will Ingoldsby, I'm sure."
"I'll go and let Mrs. M'Kissock know," Slyne volunteered. "Will you look into the gun-room when you pass, Lady Josceline?"
"Is old Janet still here?" the duchess asked as he left the room. "I must have a chat with her. She and I used to be great friends before—when Torquil St. Just was still alive and my mother would bring me over to Loquhariot when she came to call on yours. I was Jane Gairloch in those days."
Lord Ingoldsby sat listening very patiently for a time while they talked to each other, and then he became possessed by a strangled cough—to which the duchess paid no attention.
"You might give a fellah a chance, Aunt Jane," he at length suggested desperately, and she rose from the couch with a most penitent expression.