Before long her reverie was broken by the entrance of Colonel Winslow.
"It's close upon three o'clock, and yet Felix has not returned," he said. "It is not often that he prolongs his ride so far into the afternoon."
"Very seldom indeed. I was becoming rather anxious about him when this came to hand." As she spoke, she handed him the telegram.
The colonel took it and read it aloud:
"'Drelincourt, Greystone Priors, to Mrs. Drelincourt, Fairlawn.--Selim has fallen lame. Shall leave him here, to be fetched by groom tomorrow, and return by train.' That fully accounts for his non-arrival," added the colonel, as he replaced the telegram on the table, and drew up a chair. "You have heard nothing yet, I presume, as to how Gumley's trial is progressing?"
"Nothing whatever. Roden Marsh is in attendance at the sessions house, and will bring us the news at the earliest possible moment."
"I am afraid the result is a foregone conclusion," remarked the colonel.
The subject was one Mrs. Drelincourt did not care to pursue.
"And must your visit really come to an end in the course of a few days?" she presently asked. "Cannot we persuade you to favor us with your company for a fortnight longer?"
"I'm afraid I have no option in the matter. Weeks ago I promised my sister to be with her on the twelfth of this month, and were I to break my word, I should render myself liable to pains and penalties without number."