Fanny was at her wits' end; Eva had not wept since the day of her baby ills, for life had been happy to her, loved, caressed, and protected as she had been always, like a hot-house flower.
"My darling," said the mother, taking her in her arms.
But Eva wept on and on, as if her heart would break. It ended in Fanny's crying too.
V
Early the next morning her letter to Bartholomew was sent. Bartholomew had gone to Munich for a week. The letter begged, commanded, that he should make some pretext that would call David Rod from Sorrento at the earliest possible moment. She counted upon her fingers; four days for the letter to go and the answer to return. Those four days she would spend at Capri.
Eva went with her quietly. There had been no more conversation between mother and daughter about Rod; Fanny thought that this was best.
On the fourth day there came a letter from Bartholomew. Fanny returned to Sorrento almost gayly: the man would be gone.
But he was not gone. Tranquillized, glad to be at home again, Mrs. Churchill was enjoying her terrace and her view, when Angelo appeared at the window: "Signor Ra."
Angelo's mistress made him a peremptory sign. "Ask the gentleman to wait in the drawing-room," she said. Then crossing to Eva, who had risen, "Go round by the other door to our own room, Eva," she whispered.
The girl did not move; her face had an excited look. "But why—"