She went back to the house, the laurels and rhododendron bushes on either side of the drive dripping on to the sodden ground.
All the afternoon she tried to tell herself that Frances was gone, and found herself repeating the words over and over again, but still they carried no conviction to her. She thought that perhaps at dinner-time, when she would inevitably have to explain Frances’ absence to Miss Blandflower, it might help her to understand what had happened. But Miss Blandflower sent a message downstairs to say that her tooth was much worse, and she had gone to bed, and did not wish to have any dinner.
So Rosamund and Frederick Tregaskis dined together in almost unbroken silence, and he did not appear to notice the absence of Frances. At nine o’clock a telegram was brought to Rosamund, and she tore it open with a vague, sick sense of apprehension, and read:
“Arrived safely—kindest possible welcome here—best love.—Francie.”
That night Rosamund cried and sobbed herself to sleep as she had done in the days of her childhood after her mother’s death.
She woke to the realization that Mrs. Tregaskis would return that day.
At breakfast Frederick asked her suddenly:
“Is Frances upstairs?”
“No. Miss Blandflower is upstairs with toothache.”
“I know that. Where’s your sister?”