Beryl's emotion quite overpowered her, and she burst into hot, passionate tears. Lucy did her best to soothe her.
"Come, come, Miss Beryl; don't cry for nothing!" she said. "You're overdone, that's what it is. You've had a long, tiring day. You'll feel better when you get to bed."
But she did not tell Beryl that it was unlikely she would have a stepmother, and Beryl, whose ideas of stepmothers had been gathered from story books, regarded such a possibility with the utmost dread. Especially did she dislike the thought of Mrs. Campbell's filling such a position towards her.
Beryl woke the next morning with a heavy sense of trouble; there came a gleam of comfort, however, with the recollection that she should see Mr. Gilbank that day.
But, unfortunately, as Beryl had feared, Mrs. Campbell contrived to make one of the party who set out for the artist's studio. As they drove to St. John's Wood, Beryl gravely eyed her father and the lady, as they sat side by side on the opposite seat. She was watching for some sign that should confirm the rumour that had caused her such uneasiness. Presently Mr. Hollys was struck with Beryl's unusually grave expression.
"What is the matter, Beryl?" he asked.
"I am thinking, papa," said Beryl.
"That is an extraordinary proceeding on your part, I suppose," he said lightly; "a penny for your thoughts!"
"Oh, I could not tell you them now," said Beryl blushing, and involuntarily glancing at Mrs. Campbell.
"Ah, I am afraid Beryl's thoughts concern poor me," said that lady with a laugh; "she is going to find fault with me when my back is turned."