"No, I am not ill," said Miss Burton faintly, as she rose from her knees and sank on to the nearest chair.
"Then what is it?" asked Beryl. "Have you had bad news? Is your mother ill?"
"No, no, dear; it is not that," said Miss Burton, struggling to subdue her sobs.
"Oh, Miss Burton, do tell me what is making you unhappy!" Beryl implored her.
"I cannot, dear; so please do not ask me any more questions," said Miss Burton, trying to smile. "I have my troubles as well as you; but they won't bear talking about. Now run away, and take a walk by yourself; for I do not feel equal to going with you."
Slowly and reluctantly Beryl turned away. She went into the garden. Her father was still there, and she thought that she would join him; but as she came in sight, he turned hastily towards the stable-yard. Beryl felt sure that he had seen her, and she fancied that he too must wish to be left to himself. She did not follow him, but took a solitary and dreary walk.
Miss Burton did not come down during the remainder of the day, nor did she appear at breakfast the next morning. At that meal Mr. Hollys announced to his sister his intention of leaving home forthwith. This was a surprise both to her and to Beryl.
"You will not be away long, papa?" Beryl cried. "You will come back for Christmas?"
"I cannot say," he returned hastily. "I may be away some time—perhaps I shall go abroad."
Beryl was perplexed and grieved; but something in her father's manner restrained her from asking questions. He was given to making and carrying out his plans promptly, and in less than an hour he had driven away from Egloshayle House to catch the London express. Another painful surprise awaited Beryl. A few days later her governess told her that she would be obliged to leave her at Christmas.