Little Jack, on the bed, was sleeping peacefully. Cicely had fallen from her seat to the matting that covered the floor.
Eve lifted her; kneeling on the matting, she held her in her arms.
XVIII.
THE letter, though it was only a partial revelation, roused in Ferdie’s wife a passion of anger so intense that they were all alarmed. She did not speak or stir; she sat looking at them; but her very immobility, with the deep spot of red in each cheek, and her darkened narrowed eyes, made her terrible. This state lasted for twenty-four hours, during which time the poor old judge, unable to sit down or to sleep, wandered about, Hollis accompanying him silently, and waiting outside when he went every now and then to the entrance of the tent to look in. Paul came once. But Cicely’s eyes darkened so when she saw him that Eve hurriedly motioned him away. She followed him out.
“Do not come again until I send for you.”
“If there is nothing for me to do then, I might as well go to bed.”
“You are fortunate in being able to sleep!”
“I shall sleep a great deal better than I did when I thought she would be starting south in spite of us,” retorted Paul. “Imagine her arriving there and finding out—It’s much worse than she knows; that letter only tells a little. There are others, telling more, which I have kept back.”
“Did you really, then, keep back anything!”