'Certainly not; I hate auguries.'
'Do you think there is nothing in them?'
'I think there is nothing in this room but what ought to be in mine. Do you expect me to stand discussing superstition in this horrible raw emptiness? Here,' picking up Theodore, 'I'll come back for you.'
'Oh no, thank you, let me get down by myself; he cannot be left alone in a room.'
'Come, Stella, and take care of him.'
'That's worse; she leads him into mischief. We are fox, goose, and cabbage. Please give me my crutch; Wilmet put it out of reach because she said I was destroying myself.'
'You are tired to death.'
'Oh no; but one can't sit still when so much is going on. Oh, how delicious!' as after an interval she arrived, and found Mr. Audley winding up a musical-box, which Theodore was greeting with its own tunes, and Stella with a dance and chant of 'Sing box—sing box;' and then the two sat listening to the long cycle of tunes which would hold Theodore entranced for any length of time.
After a short inquiry and a reply as to the sister-in-law's state, and a few words on the progress of the flitting, there was a silence while Mr. Audley read the letters that had come for him in his absence, and Cherry's face became more and more pensive. At last, when Mr. Audley laid down his letters, and leant against the chimney-piece, she ventured to say, 'Is it wrong?'
'Is what wrong?' said the Curate, who had quite forgotten the subject.