"Very dull, I think," says Mrs. Chichester, who can't hold her tongue. "An everyday sort of thing. Lady Rylton, what do you think?"
But when they look round for her they find Tita has disappeared.
CHAPTER XIV.
HOW TITA FLINGS HERSELF UPON MARGARET'S BREAST; AND HOW MARGARET COMFORTS HER; AND HOW TITA PROMISES TO BE GOOD; AND HOW SHE HAS A MEETING "BY LAMPLIGHT ALONE."
It is now eleven o'clock. Margaret, who is in her own room, and has sent her maid to bed, is sitting over her fire dreaming of many things, when her door is suddenly opened and as suddenly closed, and, just as suddenly as all the rest of it, a little fragile thing runs towards her, and flings herself in a perfectly tragic fashion upon her breast, lying there prone—lost, apparently, in an unappeasable outburst of grief.
"Tita, my child, my darling! What has happened?" exclaims Margaret, pressing the girl to her. "Do look up, my dear, and tell me. There is nothing new, surely, Tita."
"Oh, I'm tired—I'm tired of it all!" cries Tita wildly. "I want to be done with it. Oh, Margaret, I've said nothing, nothing! Have I, now?" appealing to her with great drenched eyes. "But I can go on no longer. He hates me."
"Oh, hush, hush, Tita!"
"He does! He was unkind to me all to-day. He is always unkind to me.
He hates me, and he—loves her."
"I don't think so. I don't, really. Sit down, darling," says
Margaret, in great agitation.