She met Lady Eleanor in the hall, and drew her aside.
"Yorke is in there, Eleanor," she said.
"Yorke!"
Lady Eleanor repeated the name and started almost guiltily, almost fearfully.
"Yes, I came to tell you, and—well, yes—prepare you. I don't want you to do as I did—jump as if I'd seen a bogey man. He has been ill, or up to some deviltry or other, and he looks—well, I can't tell you how he looks. It gave me a shock. I thought I'd prepare you."
Lady Eleanor touched her hand.
"Thank you, dear. No, I won't look shocked. He looks very ill?"
"Very ill, oh! worse than ill. Like a man who has robbed a church and been found out, or lost everything he held dear."
Lady Eleanor put her handkerchief to her lips. They were trembling.
"I don't mind what he has been doing," she said.