“I should enjoy it,” Lady Enid murmured, a little plaintively.
“Then come, by all means, my darling.”
With a beating heart, Margery put on her hat; fain would she have stayed at home, but she could think of no excuse, and she did not like to spoil Lady Enid’s pleasure. She shrank from the idea of seeing those two faces again, and the chance of being recognized.
The earl was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.
“Enid has sent me for you, Miss Daw,” he said, hurriedly, “but I was most anxious to speak to you for a minute alone. Tell me honestly, do you think she wishes this journey to-morrow? Sometimes I fancy I see a hopeless longing in her eyes, and it almost makes my heart ache.”
“Indeed, Lord Court,” Margery answered, earnestly, “I am sure Lady Enid lives in the very thought of going to her old home. She has talked of it so often. Please do not distress yourself; I have seen that look in her eyes, too, but I do not think it means more than a longing to be well.”
She put out her hand timidly, and he raised it to his lips.
“Thank you,” he said, gently; “you always comfort me, Miss Daw.”
Their eyes met for an instant, and he saw again the deep sadness in hers.
“Enid is waiting,” he said; “let us go to the carriage.”