All traces of emotion had disappeared from Ethel's face and manner.
She was once again in perfect command of herself. She carried a
beautiful little French poodle in her arms and was feeding her with
sugar.
Alaric fussily brought his mother forward.
"Mater, dear," he said; "I found this gentleman in a rose-bed
enquiring the way to our lodge. He's come all the way from dear old
London just to see you. Mr. Hawkes--my mother."
Mrs. Chichester looked at Hawkes anxiously.
"You have come to see me?"
"On a very important and a very private family matter," replied
Hawkes, gravely. "IMPORTANT? PRIVATE?" asked Mrs. Chichester in
surprise.
"We're the family, Mr. Hawkes," ventured Alaric, helpfully.
Mrs. Chichester's forebodings came uppermost. After the news of the
bank's failure nothing would surprise her now in the way of
calamity. What could this grave, dignified-looking man want with
them? Her eyes filled.
"Is it BAD news?" she faltered.
"Oh, dear, no," answered Mr. Hawkes, genially.
"Well--is it GOOD news?" queried Alaric.
"In a measure," said the lawyer.
"Then for heaven's sake get at it. You've got me all clammy. We
could do with a little good news. Wait a minute! Is it by any chance
about the BANK?"
"No," replied Mr.
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