Evelyn showed no consciousness of her presence.
Jean drew the housekeeper aside.
"We must get her upstairs," she whispered. "They are—coming—with him! They will be here directly. Send for Dr. Ingram, please—and oh! Do get her upstairs! Don't you understand? Oh, don't ask questions, only be quick—only get her upstairs!" implored Jean. "They are coming—with him! He was—found—there—on the marsh!"
Stowe understood now, and was stunned with the shock, unable to act. Before them all, she sat down, shaking visibly; the first time in her well-regulated life that she had ever taken such a liberty. She could only stare at Jean; and Jean knew there was no time to lose.
"Evelyn dear, you must come to your bedroom," she said, quitting Mrs. Stowe, and bending over the carved oak-chair. "Come at once! Yes—now—come with me!"
The violet eyes opened slowly.
"Come, dear! Come, Evelyn! Please come!"
"Nonsense, Jean! What do you mean?" demanded Miss Devereux, nettled by what she counted to be interference. If Jean had proposed to keep Evelyn downstairs, she would have been the first to urge an opposite course. Nothing done by a Trevelyan could possibly be right in Sybella's eyes. "Much best for her to stay here a few minutes, till she gets warmer. Oh, you mean—to change her dress. But she is not fit to walk yet. When General Villiers arrives—"
"O hush!" entreated Jean.
"Really, Jean—"