"We hope not; perhaps a change of air may do something for her; but even at the best, it will be years before she is able to go about."
"I am so sorry," she said; "so very sorry. How sad for you and for her. I can understand why you want a companion for her; she can take no active share in the management of a large establishment like this."
"No, no share at all. We will not decide anything until my sister comes; but it seems to me that she will be most thankful to have you here, that you will be more useful to her than I can say. She would not be able to see guests, give orders or anything of that kind."
There was a strange light in her eyes, a strange, suppressed glitter in her face.
"When will your sister come?" she next inquired.
"I am going to-morrow to fetch her. There will be no need for you to make any alterations. You spoke of going away; there will be no need of that. I leave here to-morrow, and when my sister comes I suppose the sternest British propriety will be satisfied."
She smiled.
"I suppose so, too. And Sir Barnard has not even left me a mourning-ring? Well, I have so much less to be grateful for. The old servants were all remembered, I hope?"
"All of them. I will say good-night, mademoiselle; I have much to attend to. I shall hope to find you well when I return."
What a strange fascination her beauty had! I remember it with a shudder. Her face haunted me all night; I could not forget it.