"Has your master returned yet, Wicks?"
"I have seen nothing of him, ma'am." He was standing at the center table, cutting the newspaper in readiness for Mr. Drelincourt.
"Have you heard anything of this dreadful rumor?"
"Meaning about Mr. Marsh, ma'am? I can't deny, ma'am, but what I 'ave heard about it: It's in everybody's mouth, if I may make so bold as to say so."
"When and by whom was the rumor brought?"
"By a messenger from Sunbridge about a couple of hours ago. He brought a letter for master from Mr. Marsh, who, so the man said, is now in Sunbridge jail, having given hisself up to the police late yesterday evening."
"Great Heaven! Can this be true? Where is the letter?"
Wicks took it off the writing desk where he had laid it, and handed it to his mistress. "The messenger brought it, ma'am, when you were out in the pony carriage."
"Yes, it is Roden's writing," said Mrs. Drelincourt to herself, as she glanced at the superscription. For a moment or two she pressed her hand to her heart; then, as she gave back the letter, she said: "But do you mean to imply that Mr. Marsh was away from home all last night?"
"According to the chambermaid, ma'am, his bed had not been slep' in." The door was opened quickly, and Marian, followed by Walter, entered the room.