By the morning post Barbara received a letter from Dick. It was short, and its contents were startling.
“DEAREST BARBARA” (he wrote),—“Something very bad has happened. I dare not and will not tell you what it is, but it is just possible that I shall be obliged to remain in town for a day or two. Please don’t be frightened, darling. The machinations of the wicked seldom prosper, and I have not the slightest doubt that everything will turn out right in the end. If you do not hear from me or see me for a few days try to keep calm and cheerful, for I am convinced that I shall soon be able to return to you, and that this most dark cloud will pass. My promise, however, to come back to Pelham Towers to-morrow I find impossible to fulfil.
Barbara was standing near the breakfast table when she read this letter. She read it once, twice, and even three times. After the third perusal she put it in her pocket. Mrs. Evershed had entered the room. She was standing near a glorious fire, for the weather happened to be intensely cold, and her eyes, dark and sunken, were fixed upon her daughter’s face.
“What is it, Barbara? Have you news of your husband?” she asked.
“I have had a letter from him,” said Barbara slowly.
“He returns home to-day, does he not?” said Mrs. Evershed.
“But I thought you said he would come back to-day?”
“So he told me in the note I received yesterday, but he finds it impossible to do so. Mother, do you greatly mind if I leave you here, and go up to London?”
“To London?” said Mrs. Evershed. “But what for, Barbara, what for?”
“My dear child, you look quite mysterious. Is anything wrong?”
“I cannot, mother, for I do not know myself. Dick, it appears, is in some sort of trouble. Will you stay at the Towers and look after things and let me be free to go to town? Otherwise I cannot rest—I cannot really, mother.”
“You look strange, Barbara, and frightened.”
“I am frightened,” said Barbara. “I do not know why, but I am.”
“Sit down, dear, and have some breakfast.”
“You will look after things here, and set me free to go up to town?” repeated Barbara.
“Of course, my love, although I think it most unnecessary for you to go.”
“I must decide for myself on that point,” said Barbara.
Mrs. Evershed said nothing more. Barbara crossed the room and rang the bell. When the servant appeared she ordered the carriage to be round within half an hour.