he said, as the man appeared, “tell Hicks to bring the machine around immediately, then come for my bag.”

“Beg pardon, but the machine’s out of order, my lord, and her ladyship’s just going out in the carriage.”

“Why is it out of order? Hicks is a fool. Ask Lady Thryng to wait. No, pack my bag and send my boxes on after me as they are. I’ll speak to her myself.”

He threw off his jacket, thrust his cap in his pocket, and dashed away, pulling on his coat as he went, holding the crushed pages of the letter in his hand. He overtook his mother as she was walking down the terrace.

“Mother, wait,” he cried, “I’m going with you. Where’s Laura?”