"Yes, you must dine alone. Good night, f.a.n.n.y."

"Shan't I see you when you come in?"

"I may be late. Don't bother about me."

She went out and shut the door, leaving old f.a.n.n.y distressed. Something very serious was certainly happening. Beryl looked quite unusual, so strung up, so excited. What could be the matter? If only they could get back to Paris! There everything went so differently! There Beryl was always in good spirits. The London atmosphere seemed to hold poison.

Even Bourget's spell was lessened in this city of darkness and strange inexplicable perturbations.

That night, about a quarter to nine when Lady Sellingworth had just finished her solitary dinner and gone up to the drawing-room, a footman came in and said:

"Will you see Miss Van Tuyn, my lady? She has called and is in the hall.

She begs you to see her for a moment."

Two spots of red appeared in Lady Sellingworth's white cheeks. For a moment she hesitated. A feeling almost of horror had come to her, a longing for instant flight. She had not expected this. She did not know what exactly she had expected, but it had certainly not been this.

"Did you say I was in?" she said, at last.

The footman--a new man in the house--looked uncomfortable.

"I said your Ladyship was not out, but that I did not know whether your Ladyship was at home to anyone."

After another pause Lady Sellingworth said:

"Please ask Miss Van Tuyn to come up."

As she spoke she got up from her sofa. She felt that she could not receive Beryl sitting, that she must stand to confront what was coming to her with the girl.

The footman went out and almost immediately returned.

"Miss Van Tuyn, my lady."

"Do forgive me, Adela!" said Miss Van Tuyn, coming in with her usual graceful self-possession and looking, Lady Sellingworth thought in that first moment, quite untroubled. "This is a most unorthodox hour. But I knew you were often alone in the evening, and I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind seeing me for a few minutes."

She took Lady Sellingworth's hand and started. For the hand was cold.

Then she looked round and saw that the footman had left the room. The big door was shut. They were alone together.

"Of course you know why I've come, Adela," she said. "I've had your letter."

As she spoke she drew it out of the m.u.f.f she was carrying.

"I was obliged to write it," said Lady Sellingworth. "It was my duty to write it."

"Yes?"

"But I don't want to discuss it."

They were both still standing. Now Miss Van Tuyn said;

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

"No; do sit."

"And may I take off my coat?"

Lady Sellingworth was obliged to say:

"Yes, do."

Very composedly and rather slowly Miss Van Tuyn took off her fur coat, laid aside her m.u.f.f, and sat down near the fire.

"I'm very sorry, Adela, but really, we must discuss this letter," she said. "I don't understand it."

"Surely it is explicit enough."

"Yes. It is too explicit not to be discussed between us."

"Beryl, I don't want to discuss it. I can't discuss it."

"Why not?"

"Because it is too painful--a horrible subject. You must take my word for it that I have written you the plain truth."

"Please don't think I doubt your word, Adela."

"No, of course not. And that being so let the matter end there. It must end there."

"But--where? I don't quite understand really."

"I felt obliged to send you a warning, a very serious warning. I greatly disliked, I hated doing it. But I couldn't do otherwise. You are young--a girl. I am an--I am almost an old woman. We have been friends.

I saw you in danger. What could I do but tell you of it? I knew of course you were quite innocent in the matter. I am putting no blame whatever on you. You will do me that justice."

"Oh, yes."

"So there is nothing more to discuss. I have done what I was bound to do, and I know you will heed my warning."

She looked at the letter in Beryl's hand, and remembered her feeling of danger when she wrote it.

"And now please burn that letter, Beryl. Throw it into the fire."

As she spoke she pointed to the fire on the hearth. But Miss Van Tuyn kept the letter in her hand.

"Please wait a minute, Adela!" she said.

And a mutinous look came into her face.

"You don't quite understand how things are. It's all very well to think you can make me give up my friend--any friend of mine--at a moment's notice and at a word from you. But I don't see things quite in the same light."

"That--that man isn't your friend. Don't say that."