"Yes," interrupted Lady Lamerton, "what have you got there?"
"A note, my lady, Miss Inglett left on her dressing-table for his lordship, before she went."
"Went!"
"Started, my lady, for town to Lady Hermione Woodhead's. She said, my lady, she would write for me when I was required."
Lady Lamerton took the note. It was addressed to her husband, but she hastily opened it. It contained these few lines only—
"Dear Papa,
"You said it would be best for you and for my step-mother, and for myself, if I went away for some time from Orleigh. I have gone—but not to Aunt Hermione. You can, of course, guess who accompanies me, one whom I trust ere long you will acknowledge as a son. I will write in a day or two.
"Yours ever,
"Arminell."
Lady Lamerton did not lose her presence of mind.
"That will do," she said to the maid, and went in quest of her husband. She showed him the letter and said in a low tone, "No time is to be lost; go instantly, go yourself to Chillacot, and see if she be there. If not you can learn where he is. No one else can go. I will keep the company amused and occupied. Slip out by the gate at the end of the avenue and go over the down, no one will observe you."
Lord Lamerton nodded, and departed without a word. Presently up came Mrs. Cribbage again, "I cannot find Miss Inglett anywhere," she said.
"No, Mrs. Cribbage," answered Lady Lamerton. "How are you likely to when she is gone to town? Did not I tell you that we had accepted Lady Hermione's kind invitation?"
