But Marian still remained seated in that strange trance, with fixed eyes and locked hands, as if seeing and hearing nothing.
“What on earth’s up with her now?” uttered the amazed Hannah.
“I don’t think she’s well,” said Jervis uneasily. “Polly, my dear—Polly,” and he grasped her shoulder gently, giving a slight shake. “Polly, wake up; are you asleep? That’s right—” as Marian rose.
“Will you answer the bell, or shall I? Come, my dear, we must be quick. Miss Rutherford is waiting.”
Marian resumed her seat.
“I can’t stand,” she said. “I think—I think I’m taken dizzy. My head’s all of a maze.” She looked up at her brother entreatingly. “You go, Jervis, please,” she whispered. “And let me have a word with her before she leaves.”
“Yes, to be sure, if she doesn’t mind,” replied Jervis cheerfully. “You’d like to ask all about Mr. Rutherford, wouldn’t you?”
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
THE INTERVIEW.
AS Jervis had opened the door to his sister, one wintry evening, months earlier, so now he opened it to his niece. But he no more knew Joan to be his niece than he had known Marian at first sight to be his sister. He thought of her only as Mr. Rutherford’s adopted daughter—Miss Rutherford. Joan was so commonly spoken of in the neighborhood by this name, that very many, including Jervis, quite believed her to be Mr. Rutherford’s niece.