‘Sit down, mother; don’t be so distressed,’ said Sidwell, calmly.  ‘It will all very soon be settled.’

’Of course not a word must be said to anyone.  How very fortunate that we shall be in London till the summer!  Of course he must leave Exeter.’

’I have no doubt he will.  Let us talk as little of it as possible, mother.  We shall go back to-morrow’——­

’This afternoon!  We will go back with Buckland.  That is decided.  I couldn’t sleep here another night.’

‘We must remain till to-morrow,’ Sidwell replied, with quiet determination.

‘Why?  What reason can there be?’

Mrs. Warricombe’s voice was suspended by a horrible surmise.

‘Of course we shall go to-day, Sidwell,’ she continued, in nervous haste.  ’To think of that man having the impudence to call and sit talking with you!  If I could have dreamt’——­

‘Mother,’ said Sidwell, gravely, ’I am obliged to see Mr. Peak, either this evening or to-morrow morning.’

‘To—­to~see~ him——?  Sidwell!  What can you mean?’

’I have a reason for wishing to hear from his own lips the whole truth.’

’But we know the whole truth!—­What can you be thinking of, dear?  Who is this Mr. Peak that you should ask him to come and see you, under~any~ circumstances?’

It would never have occurred to Sidwell to debate with her mother on subtle questions of character and motive, but the agitation of her nerves made it difficult for her to keep silence under these vapid outcries.  She desired to be alone; commonplace discussion of the misery that had come upon her was impossible.  A little more strain, and she would be on the point of tears, a weakness she was resolute to avoid.

‘Let me think quietly for an hour or two,’ she said, moving away.  ’It’s quite certain that I must stay here till to-morrow.  When Buckland has gone, we can talk again.’

’But, Sidwell’——­

’If you insist, I must leave the house, and find a refuge somewhere else.’

Mrs. Warricombe tossed her head.

’Oh, if I am not permitted to speak to you!  I only hope you won’t have occasion to remember my warning!  Such extraordinary behaviour was surely never known!  I should have thought’——­

Sidwell was by this time out of the room.  Safe in privacy she sat down as if to pen a letter.  From an hour’s agitated thought, the following lines resulted: 

’My brother has told me of a conversation he held with you this morning.  He says you admit the authorship of an article which seems quite inconsistent with what you have professed in our talks.  How am I to understand this contradiction?  I beg that you will write to me at once.  I shall anxiously await your reply.’