"She is stupefied, poor thing, and doesn't know what to do or say next. I'm told she was quite decided about not asking either Mr. Trevelyan or my husband to take the funeral, but she would have that old gentleman down from London. He was rather slow, don't you think? I hope Mrs. Villiers is grateful, after the way the Trevelyans have behaved; but of course she must be stunned for a little while. Jean's an odd girl, very odd, so shut-up, as you say," pursued Mrs. Kennedy, in reflective accents. "I never can half make her out, she's so odd. But plucky, don't you know?"
"It must have been dreadful for poor Jean, to find the General like that, when she was alone."
"Like that—yes, dreadful," echoed Mrs. Kennedy. "I'm sure one feels any amount for the poor widow. That's what it is, Mabel, you see. It isn't so much for us—" as if striving to disentangle the strands of her own sensations. "They are a sort of friends—were, I mean—at least, I mean, he was and she is—at least, if she doesn't change—and my husband always thought there never was such a man as the dear General. But Mrs. Villiers doesn't care a rap for me, don't you know?—And to be sure, why should she? Everybody isn't made to suit everybody else; and it would be uncommonly stupid if they were. Like rows of buttons and buttonholes, you know. Well, and then there's the will. Of course you know all about the will. I call it a shame, only one can't say a word of blame about the good old man, now he's gone; and of course he meant it for the best, in some way or other—only one can't imagine what way, and I do call it a shame. I can't think what in the world possessed him to go and do it. As if a lovely young thing like her was never to marry again? But she'll have to wait for a rich husband, that's all. She isn't fit to rough it, you know."
"Is not this very soon to be talking about another husband?" asked Mabel, rather jarred.
"Well, yes; and I wouldn't to anybody except you. But how is one to help thinking? So Mr. James Trevelyan couldn't run down for the funeral. What a pity! He's a busy man, of course, and lots of engagements always, but I should think he might have managed it, if he had chosen. Now, he's a nice man—" meditatively—"and so handsome; and just a nice age—and I should have thought—But of course he has no money, so it's no good fancying anything about him. There's Thomas at last! Catch him, Mabel, before he gets into the study."
Mabel was met by Mr. Kennedy entering the room in which they had held their tête-à-tête.
"Thomas, Mabel has a message from her father," quoth his wife.
"Or rather from Mrs. Villiers through my father. Mrs. Villiers would be glad to see you, if you would call on her, either this afternoon or to-morrow."
"Now, Mabel! And you never to tell me that, all the time you have been here!"
Mabel laughed. She might have pleaded lack of opportunity. Mr. Kennedy stood gazing at her with blank eyes, while her words worked their way through the cotton-wool which enveloped his brain.