She held
up her hand for silence, and listened to what was going forward on the
lawn.
The dull thump of the croquet-mallet against the ball was no longer to
be heard. The game had stopped.
In a moment more she heard her own name called. An interval of another
instant passed, and a familiar voice said, "I know where she is. I'll
fetch her."
She turned to Geoffrey, and pointed to the back of the summer-house.
"It's my turn to play," she said. "And Blanche is coming here to look
for me. Wait there, and I'll stop her on the steps."
She went out at once. It was a critical moment. Discovery, which meant
moral-ruin to the woman, meant money-ruin to the man. Geoffrey had not
exaggerated his position with his father. Lord Holchester had twice paid
his debts, and had declined to see him since. One more outrage on his
father's rigid sense of propriety, and he would be left out of the will
as well as kept out of the house. He looked for a means of retreat,
in case there was no escaping unperceived by the front entrance.
A door--intended for the use of servants, when picnics and gipsy
tea-parties were given in the summer-house--had been made in the back
wall.
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