I suppose I shall take the leap some day, and probably in the dark, and then I shall be sorry for it.

Most of you have!' She looked up at Lady Maud with a rather uncertain, flickering smile, as if she wished her mind to be made up for her, and her hands lay weakly in her lap, the palms almost upwards.
'Oh, don't ask me!' cried her friend, answering the look rather than the words, and speaking with something approaching to vehemence.
'Do you wish you had waited for the other one till now ?' asked Margaret softly, but she did not know that he had been killed in South Africa; she had never seen the shabby little photograph.
'Yes--for ever!' That was all Lady Maud said, and the two words were not uttered dramatically either, though gravely and without the least doubt.
The butler and two men appeared, to collect the coffee cups; the former had a small salver in his hand and came directly to Lady Maud.
He brought a telegram for her.
'You don't mind, do you ?' she asked Margaret mechanically, as she opened it.
'Of course,' answered the other in the same tone, and she looked through the open window while her friend read the message.
It was from the Embassy in London, and it informed her in the briefest terms that Count Leven had been killed in St.Petersburg on the previous day, in the street, by a bomb intended for a high official.
Lady Maud made no sound, but folded the telegram into a small square and turned her back to the room for a moment in order to slip it unnoticed into the body of her black velvet gown.

As she recovered her former attitude she was surprised to see that the butler was still standing two steps from her where he had stopped after he had taken the cups from the piano and set them on the small salver on which he had brought the message.

He evidently wanted to say something to her alone.
Lady Maud moved away from the piano, and he followed her a little beyond the window, till she stopped and turned to hear what he had to say.
'There are three persons asking for Mr.Van Torp, my lady,' he said in a very low tone, and she noticed the disturbed look in his face.
'They've got a motor-car waiting in the avenue.' 'What sort of people are they ?' she asked quietly; but she felt that she was pale.
'To tell the truth, my lady,' the butler spoke in a whisper, bending his head, 'I think they are from Scotland Yard.' Lady Maud knew it already; she had almost guessed it when she had glanced at his face before he spoke at all.
'Show them into the old study,' she said, 'and ask them to wait a moment.' The butler went away with his two coffee cups, and scarcely any one had noticed that Lady Maud had exchanged a few words with him by the window.

She turned back to the piano, where Margaret was still sitting on the stool with her hands in her lap, looking at Logotheti in the distance and wondering whether she meant to marry him or not.
'No bad news, I hope ?' asked the singer, looking up as her friend came to her side.
'Not very good,' Lady Maud answered, leaning her elbow on the piano.
'Should you mind singing something to keep the party together while I talk to some tiresome men who are in the old study?
On these June evenings people have a way of wandering out into the garden after dinner.