'Well,' said John Morgan, 'that is Dolly's writing, isn't it?'
'Yes,' said Frank. 'Lady Sarah wants to see me. As for Miss Vanborough, she seems to be studying the art of keeping old friends at a distance.'
'Nonsense,' said Morgan, 'since she asks you to go. What is the matter with you?'
The second time old Sam let Frank in at once, and showed him into the drawing-room. 'My lady will be ready directly,' he said.
Frank waited his summons; when he was tired of waiting he stepped out upon the terrace, attracted by the beauty of the autumnal evening, and wondering what inexpressible charm the old home had for him. Ravensrick, with all the graces of possession, did not seem to him so much like home as this silent old house where he had no right, no single stake; where the mistress lay stricken, and parting from this world; where Dolly lived, but where her heart's interest was not. Already strangers were speculating upon the fate of the old house, and wondering who would come there after Lady Sarah's death. And yet Frank Raban, as he paced the terrace, felt a tranquil satisfaction and sense of completeness that existed for him in no other place.
When Dolly came into Lady Sarah's room to tell her that Frank was there, Marker, who had been sitting in a corner, got up gently and left the room. Lady Sarah was not asleep; she was sitting up on her sofa by the window, of which the sash was half raised to let in the air. Her grey hair was hanging loose; grey though it was, it fell in shining silver curls about the withered face.
'Is that you, Dolly? I have had a dream,' she said, a little wildly. 'Your father was standing by me and we were looking at a river, and George was a child again, and I held him in my arms, and when I looked into his face it was like the face of that Raphael child at Dresden. Look out,' she said, beginning to wander again, 'and tell me if the river is there.'
Dolly unconsciously obeyed, and looked out at the garden, in its shifting, changing lights and tremulous tones of radiance and golden-sombres. She could almost have imagined her aunt's dream to be true if Frank Raban had not been walking on the terrace. She looked back.
'Dear Aunt Sarah, it is the sunset that made you dream.'
'It was a dream,' said Lady Sarah, 'but I think I have sometimes seen that river before, Dolly. Christian and Christiana and all the company have crossed it.' Then, smiling: 'I am afraid I have been a tiresome old pilgrim at times.' She pushed back her grey hair and lay looking into the girl's face. 'It is nearly over now,' she said.