Mrs. Lancing lay still a minute or two, and then she opened her eyes again and smiled at Caroline.
There was no light in the room, except the strong glow from the flames which shot up the chimney. From below they could hear the murmur of voices, and sometimes the excited laughter of the children.
"But you won't leave me just yet, will you?"
"I am afraid you will have to turn me out when you want to get rid of me," said Caroline. A moment later, in a low and moved voice, she said, "Do you imagine it would be so easy for me to separate myself from you and the children?"
The woman on the couch stretched out her hand, and Caroline stooped forward and took it in hers.
"I should like to think that you would stick to me, that you would never turn against me," she said, and her lips quivered.
Caroline's only answer was to tighten her hold on that slender hand. Then she rose and put a warmer wrap over Mrs. Lancing.
"Don't you think if I were to leave you now you would sleep? Perhaps I had better go downstairs again, and see what the children are doing. They may be getting into mischief and I am sure Babsy, dear little heart, must be nearly worn out."
And with some persuasion Mrs. Lancing assented to this. As she reached the big hall, Caroline met Rupert Haverford.
"Mrs. Lancing is resting. I have persuaded her to lie down. She wants to be well for dinner."