Her child—her little one, in that woman's power. It was noticeable that in this hour all her thoughts went to the child.
•••••
"Hullo, Jacynth! This you? By Jove! what mad haste. Not even a word for an old friend?"
"Why, Castleton! What brings you here?"
"Folly! Folly only, if it must be told," said Lord Castleton, dismally. "Sentiment is folly; isn't it, Jacynth? Yet a sentimental desire to know how the Onslows are going on is driving me back to Guernsey—a spot I quitted a week ago."
"To Guernsey! Why, that is where I am going too. Have you heard anything?" He looked eagerly at his companion. "Do you know anything? I have had a telegram from—from her. Can you explain it?"
"A telegram! When?"
"A few hours ago. Look here, Castleton. I honestly think you are a friend of Lady Francis Onslow's—read this."
"I am a friend of both the Onslows," said Castleton deliberately. He meant what he said. He took the telegram and glanced at it.
"Same old game!" said he at last, lifting his brows. "Another quarrel, I suppose. I thought when they came together this time that they meant business, but it seems not. How few married people are suited to each other!"
