"I'll come with pleasure." Dinner at Devenham House that evening was certainly a domestic meal.
Even the Duke was away, attending a political gathering.

Penelope was pale, but otherwise entirely her accustomed self.

She talked even more than usual, and though she spoke of a headache, she declined all remedies.

To Somerfield's surprise, she made not the slightest objection when he followed her into the library after dinner.
"Penelope," he said, "something has gone wrong.

Won't you tell me what it is?
You look worried." She returned his anxious gaze, dry-eyed but speechless.
"Has that fellow, Prince Maiyo, done or said anything--" She interrupted him.
"No!" she cried.