He continued to stare, and then she saw his smile fade and a curious reminiscent look take its place. She knew what the look meant. He was trying to recall more of the occasion, and wondering how much of his conversation with Lady Clifford she had overheard.
"I thought it would come back to you one day," she remarked easily.
"It's the hat that made the difference, you know."
She left him standing there motionless, looking after her, his eyes narrowed in thought. She was careless now as to what he recalled or didn't recall. What difference could it make?
"Come in, my dear. I'm trying to write some of my many letters—such a trying task!"
The old lady was sitting up in bed with her writing materials before her on a little bed-table. She smiled at Esther, but her face looked weary and old, with lines of grief that had not been there a month ago.
"Are you going out?"
"I'm leaving, Miss Clifford. I came to say good-bye."
Miss Clifford's jaw dropped; she laid down her pen and stared.
"Good-bye? Not now, surely! I thought——"
"So did I, but it was a mistake. Lady Clifford doesn't need me any more."