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Here Mona and Dorothy grow suddenly deeply interested, and lean forward.,"Are you one of the others?","Why have you taken all this trouble about us?" says Lady Rodney, leaning forward to look at the girl anxiously, her voice low and trembling.,"My dear mother, you forget the path leading from the southern gate to Plumston Road has been open to the public for generations. He was at perfect liberty to walk there.","Lady Mary Crighton? Yes, I have met her. An old lady with corkscrew ringlets, patches, and hoops? She is quite grande dame, and witty, like all you Irish people.",But to Geoffrey—lest the telling should cause him unhappiness—she had said nothing of her discovery; only when the morning came that saw him depart upon his mission (now so well understood by her), she had kissed him, and told him to "hurry, hurry, hurry back to her," with a little sob between each word. And when he was gone she had breathed an earnest prayer, poor child, that all might yet be well, and then told herself that, no matter what came, she would at least be a faithful, loving wife to him.,As they enter, mirth ceases. A remarkable silence falls upon the group. Everybody looks at anything but Violet and her companion.,"Why, they can't help it," explains he. "They are sent half the time.",CHAPTER I.,This tirade has hardly the effect upon Dorothy that might be desired. She still stands firm, utterly unshaken by the storm that has just swept over her (frail child though she is), and, except for a slight touch of indignation that is fast growing within her eyes, appears unmoved.,At this Mr. Rodney moves a shade closer to her.,"Come home," says Mona, faintly. Now the actual danger is past, terror creeps over her, rendering her a prey to imaginary sights and sounds. "There may be others. Do not delay.".