She sank into a chair, looking overwhelmed.
"My dear child," said her father, suddenly emerging from the embrasure of the dining-room window, "you mustn't add to your mother's troubles just now. You must be a good little girl, and not think of yourself at all. Do your little lessons, and play about in the sunshine, and don't give any trouble, but be a good, happy little child."
It all sounded very kind and easy. The flood of misery that overwhelmed one must be some form of obscure, but extreme, naughtiness.
Luncheon was eaten almost in silence, and Eleanor went away before it was finished, stroking Lily's long brown hair as she passed behind her chair.
"Play in the garden this afternoon," she whispered, "and Mother will try and come to you in the drawing-room after tea."
Then a telegram was brought in and Philip, after reading it, said to the parlour-maid:
"The carriage will be wanted to meet the 3.30 train this afternoon. Tell Fowler."
Miss Cleeve looked up and said: "Is it——?" and raised her eyebrows.
"Yes. A second opinion will be a relief to us, though I'm afraid——" He checked himself.
Lily, not daring to glance at them, knew very well that it was because of her that they left all their sentences unfinished.