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youlike.Youmaybequitesurenobodyshallhear
awordaboutit.”
Bythistimetheyhadgottothehall-door.
“I’msureofthat,darling,”andshekissedthekind
oldlady.
“Andareyou
quite
sureyouwouldnotlikeaservant
totravelwithyou;hecouldsitbesidethedriver?”
“No,dearauntie,mytrustyoldDulcibellasitsinside
totakecareofme."
“Well,dear,areyouquitesure?Ishouldnotmiss
himtheleast.”
“Quite,dearaunt,Iassureyou.”
“Andyouknowyoutoldmeyouwerequitehappy
atWyvern,”saidLadyWyndale,returningherfarewell
caress,andspeakinglow,foraservantstoodatthe
chaise-door.
“DidI?Well,Ishouldn’thavesaidthat,for–I’m
not
happy,”whisperedAliceMaybell,andthetearssprang
tohereyesasshekissedheroldkinswoman;andthen,
withherarmsstillaboutherneck,therewasabrief
lookfromherlarge,brimmingeyes,whileherlip
trembled;andsuddenlysheturned,andbeforeLady
Wyndalehadrecoveredfromthatlittleshock,her
prettyguestwasseatedinthechaise,thedoorshut,
andshedroveaway.
“Whatcanitbe,poorlittlething?”thoughtLady
Wyndale,ashereyesanxiouslyfollowedthecarriage
initsflightdowntheavenue.
“Theyhaveshotherpet-pigeon,orthedoghaskilled
herguinea-pig,oroldFairfieldwon’tallowhertosit
uptilltwelveo’clockatnight,readinghernovel.Some
childishmisery,Idaresay,poorlittlesoul!”
Butforallthatshewasnotsatisfied,andherpoor,
pale,troubledlookhauntedher.