"Will you tell me what is amiss?"
Miss Holcroft briefly explained, and then Miss Pamela came in. The sight of Marigold's mother sitting quietly listening whilst her sister talked, was a surprise, and at the same time a relief to her. She had expected tears, but this slight dark-eyed woman was perfectly composed.
"I have just come from Marigold's room," she said; adding, as she shook hands with her nephew's widow, "you must not think we have neglected the child, for she is very dear to us."
"I am sure of it, and I can never repay you for your goodness to her. Does she know I am here?"
"No; but she knows I sent for you this morning. Will you go to her at once?"
"I think I will remove my cloak and bonnet first, then I shall look more myself."
The sisters led their visitor to the room that had been prepared for her, where she laid aside her outdoor garments, brushed her hair, and washed her face and hands.
"I shall not excite Marigold now," she said, as she turned towards them again, her face very pale, but her eyes full of the light of love. "Still, do you not think before I see her she had better be told I am here?"
"Yes, certainly," Miss Pamela responded; "that will be the better plan."
She entered the sick-room, and motioned to Barker, who watched at the bedside, to go away.