Sarah was left in the hall, while Mrs. Durant went upstairs. But after a time the lady came down with a troubled air.
"I can't get her to come," she said. "You must go up yourself, Sarah, and speak to her. She will come into the dressing-room, she says, for a minute, but she cannot leave Miss Kenyon for a longer time. You must tell her quietly what has happened, and then she will no doubt see the advisability of going away."
Sarah went upstairs, therefore, and entered the dressing-room, where the old aunt was still busy; and in a minute or two Lesley appeared.
"What is it?" she said, briefly.
"Your aunt sent me to say you must come home at once, miss."
"I cannot come just yet: Miss Kenyon wishes me to stay with her," said Lesley, with dignity.
"You'd better come, Miss Lesley. I don't want to tell you the dreadful news just now: you'd better hear it at home. Then you'll be glad you came. It's your pa, miss."
"My father! Oh, Sarah, what do you mean? Is he ill? is he dead? What is it?"
"He's been arrested, miss, for killing Mr. Trent."
Sarah spoke in a whisper, but it seemed to her hearers as if she had shouted the words at the top of her voice. Mrs. Durant pressed her hands together and uttered a little scream. Lesley turned deadly white, and laid one hand on the back of a chair, as if for support. And the old aunt immediately ran into the inner room, and burst into tears over Ethel's almost inanimate form, bewailing her, and calling her a poor, injured, heartbroken girl, until Ethel opened her great dark eyes, and fixed them upon the aged, distorted face with a questioning look.