The Honourable Mrs. Ffinch was not merely the happy possessor of an energetic mind, but of an elastic physique. As soon as she had recovered from the shock of Travers' death, heart and soul she set about arranging his affairs—naturally beginning with his orphan daughter!
Accordingly the afternoon after the funeral, the Clouds Rest car once more glided up to Fairplains. On this occasion the visitor was immediately admitted to see Nancy; who thanks to Mrs. Hicks' almost violent insistence, had rested and eaten a mid-day meal. The white and tearless girl submitted very patiently to her friend's caresses and condolence. At last Mrs. Ffinch released her, and sat down,—still holding her hand, as if she feared her escape,—began to talk to her most seriously.
"Well, my dear child, I've settled everything! your room at Clouds Rest is ready, the Dirzee is waiting to fit your mourning, and I have come to fetch you away,—for I don't intend to leave you another day with Mrs. Hicks."
"She has been so very, very kind," murmured Nancy, "I don't know what I should have done without her."
The visitor dismissed this statement, with an impatient gesture, as she resumed:
"And there's Captain Mayne! What is he waiting for?"
"I suppose he is waiting for me," was the unexpected reply.
Mrs. Ffinch's large thin-lipped mouth opened, but no words came forth, she merely gaped upon her young friend.
"We were married on Friday," calmly announced the bride.
"You were—what?" cried Mrs. Ffinch, hastily rising and towering over the speaker.