“No—we shall not suppose. I have told the servants that to-day Miss Enderby goes into the country, to visit her old governess for a few days. Very well—they shall see her go. If there is no other letter to-morrow, I shall tell Mr. Enderby.”
“Doesn’t he know?”
“Please make haste, Miss Moran!” said Mrs. Enderby.
As if hypnotized, Lexy began to dress herself in Caroline’s clothes; but, as she glanced in the mirror to adjust the close-fitting little hat, the monstrousness of the whole thing overwhelmed her. She had so often seen Caroline in this hat and coat!
“Oh, I can’t!” she cried. “I can’t! Suppose something terrible has happened to her, and I’m—”
“Keep quiet!” said Mrs. Enderby fiercely. “I tell you it shall be so! Now, the veil. No, not like that—not as if you were disguising yourself! So!”
She unlocked the door, and, taking Lexy by the arm, went out into the hall. Together they descended the stairs, Mrs. Enderby chatting volubly in French, as she was wont to do with her daughter. None of the servants would think of interrupting her, or of staring at her companion. It was an ordinary, everyday scene. Annie was crossing the lower hall.
“Miss Moran will be out all day,” said Mrs. Enderby. “There will be no one at home for lunch.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Annie.
The maid would not notice when—or if—Miss Moran went out. There was nothing to arouse suspicion in any one.