On the following morning, as Adrien stood before a mirror, putting the
finishing touches to his toilet, carefully supervised by Norgate, his
thoughts went back to Jessica. The idea of the child wandering about the
streets, homeless and penniless, filled him with a supreme pity. He had
meant to have spoken to Jasper about it, but he felt half ashamed;
besides, he rather dreaded to see Vermont's cynical smile at the idea of
his turning philanthropist to street-waifs.

He had just finished his breakfast when a servant appeared, with a
dainty little note marked "Immediate."

The envelope bore no crest; for Lady Merivale used none in her
correspondence with Adrien Leroy, from prudential motives. But he
recognised the handwriting, and the faint Oriental scent her ladyship
invariably used, and hastened to open it, fearing a lengthy epistle full
of hysterical reproaches. To his intense relief he found that it
contained but two lines.

"DEAR ADRIEN,--I shall spend the day with Aunt Rose at Hampton. Do you
care to accompany me as you promised?"

"Indeed I do," murmured Adrien.

He recollected that on the day of the race he had promised Lady Merivale
that, when next she visited her aunt, Lady Rose Challoner, at Hampton
Court, he would meet her there, and row her to some of the pretty
islands further up the stream, and there spend the day in delicious
idleness.