I saw the man's face flush crimson, but he went away and returned in a few minutes, saying that his master was not in.
My mother repeated the words in some wonder.
"Have you seen papa this morning, Laura?"
"No; Emma brought my breakfast to me."
"I have not seen him either," she said. "He has not been to say good-morning to me yet. John, leave word that when Sir Roland comes in we shall be on the grass plot near the sun-dial!"
Why did they all look at us with such scared faces, with such wondering eyes? And I felt sure that I heard one say to the other:
"I have sent for the rector."
We went—as unconscious of the doom that hung over us as two children—went my mother's rounds. She looked at all the flowers, but turned to me once or twice and said, uneasily:
"I wonder where Sir Roland is? It seems strange not to have seen him."
We talked about him. There was nothing she liked more than speaking of him to me. We were out, I should think, at least three hours, and then my mother felt faint, and we went back.