After which her glance fell upon Mittie's troubled face, and the hall-sobbing question reached her— "O cousin Hermione, have you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"About—about Aunt Julia and Uncle Harvey?"
"I don't understand. What have they done?"
"The horses ran away, and the carriage is all smashed, and—and—poor Emperor is dead," sobbed Mittie. "And mother has gone off to Aunt Julia. And Marjory came here, and stayed with me ever so long—she did, cousin Hermione—and you were so dreadfully late, she couldn't wait any longer. And Aunt Julia is very bad, and Uncle Harvey is hurt too."
Hermione stood gravely looking down on the child with an air of grieved concern, exactly the right air for the occasion. Nobody would have guessed the instant thought which shot through her mind, that East Bourne would now be given up, and there would be no need for her to go to the Daltons'. Hermione would have been the last to confess the thought; she scarcely allowed its existence even to herself.
"Who brought the news, Mittie?"
"John did. He came back from Captain Woodthorpe's."
"Are they there—at Captain Woodthorpe's?"
Mittie was crying too bitterly to respond further than by a nod. Hermione led her to the drawing-room, where she rang for Slade. The whole tale was then told her.