"Oh, no! we must not risk such a thing, I know. Well, I will wait as patiently as I can."
"And I will tell you what you may do, meantime. To-day you shall superintend in person the preparation of a suite of rooms for your father. You shall let my housekeeper into the secret of all his little tastes, and they shall be considered in the arrangements. That will occupy one day. To-morrow, you know, is Sunday, and we must go to church. That will occupy the second. The next day, Monday, we will make our weekly round among the poor. That will occupy the third day, to the exclusion of everything else. For if there is one employment more than another that will make us forget our personal anxieties, it is ministering to the wants of others. And, in all human probability, before Monday evening Judge Merlin will be here."
"Yes, yes! Oh, my dear father! I can scarcely realize that I shall see him so soon," said Claudia, with emotion.
The countess' programme was carried out. Claudia spent that day in superintending the arrangements of a handsome suite of rooms for her father.
On Sunday they went to church. But the text was an unfortunate one for Claudia's spirits. It was taken from James iv. 13: "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." And the subject of the discourse was on the vanity of human expectations and the uncertainty of human destiny. Claudia returned home greatly depressed; but that depression soon yielded to the cheerfulness of Lady Hurstmonceux's manner.
On Monday they made their rounds among the poor; and Claudia forgot her anxieties and felt happy in the happiness she saw dispensed around her.
Yes, the programme of the countess was carried out, but her previsions were not realized. Judge Merlin did not come that evening, nor on the next morning, nor on the next evening.
On Wednesday morning Claudia, as usual, seized the "Times" as soon as it was brought in, and turned eagerly to the telegraphic column. But there was no arrival from America. Glancing farther down the column, she suddenly grew pale and exclaimed:
"Oh, Berenice!"
"What is it, dear?" inquired the countess.