"Oh, my poor Tony," she said softly to herself. "My poor dear boy!"
The words had hardly left her lips when the noise of a motor pulling up outside came in plainly through the open window. A moment later the front door bell pealed loudly.
Lady Jocelyn got up, and walking slowly to the door intercepted the maid who was in the act of crossing the landing.
"I am not at home, Ellen," she said, "unless it's Mr. Henry Conway. I am expecting him, so you can bring him straight upstairs."
"Yes, M'lady," murmured the girl sympathetically.
All Lady Jocelyn's servants adored her, and although to them Isabel's abrupt disappearance was still a complete mystery, they were very troubled and upset at the obvious effect which it had produced upon their mistress.
Walking back across the room Lady Jocelyn had just reached her former seat, when a sudden sound of voices in the hall below made her pause abruptly. An exclamation escaped from her lips, and with an unconscious movement she stretched out her arm and caught hold of the back of the sofa to steady herself. The next moment footsteps came scrambling up the stairs, and forgetful of all her professional training, Ellen burst wildly into the room, her round face shining with excitement.
"Oh, M'lady! It's Miss Isabel and Sir Antony, M'lady—and—and Mr. Oliver."
Even as she spoke the first-named couple appeared in the doorway, and with a little glad cry, Lady Jocelyn stepped forward, holding out her hands.
"Tony! Isabel!" she whispered; then as they hurried towards her, and each threw their arms round her, she added, half laughing, half crying: "Oh, you dear, bad children! How you've frightened me!"