Suddenly
Lady Lucy touched him on the knee.
"Oliver!"--her voice was gasping and difficult--"Oliver!--you had
nothing to do with that?"
"With what, mother?"
"With the _Herald_ article. I read it this morning. But I laughed at it!
John's letter arrived at the same moment--so happy, so full of plans--"
"Mother!--you don't imagine that a man in Ferrier's position can be
upset by an article in a newspaper?"
"I don't know--the _Herald_ was so important--I have heard John say so.
Oliver!"--her face worked painfully--"I know you talked with that man
that night. You didn't--"
"I didn't say anything of which I am ashamed," he said, sharply, raising
his head.
His mother looked at him in silence. Their eyes met in a flash of
strange antagonism--as though each accused the other.
A sound behind them made Lady Lucy turn round. Brown was coming over the
grass.
"A telegram, sir, for you. Your coachman stopped the boy and sent him
here."
Marsham opened it hastily. As he read it his gray and haggard face
flushed again heavily.
"Awful news just reached me. Deepest sympathy with you and
yours. Should be grateful if I might see you to-day.
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