“I am writing to him to-night,” said Jack.
The interview was not very long, but when it was over and Jack Rotherfield had gone away, she fell to wondering what he would say about her in his letter to Sir Robert.
Her heart was still very sore about the departure of the baronet without a word of farewell to her, and she felt that he still associated her unfairly in his mind with all his misfortunes.
It was true, indeed, that she had always been at the Mill-house when they happened.
As the winter went on, Caryl, who received frequent letters from his father, without one word in them of Rhoda, became more and more disturbed as to his future.
He dictated his letters to Rhoda, who transcribed them for him; but, although they both knew that the baronet must recognise her handwriting, there was never any message in Sir Robert’s letters to his son, to any one except the ladies of the marquis’s family, and the head servants at the Mill-house.
These two, Rhoda and Caryl, began to talk about what they should do when the spring came, and the boy told her he intended to ask his father to let him go abroad with her, if she would not come back to the Mill-house with him.
And so the weeks rolled by until winter was over, and the early days of April found Caryl still at the Priory in the care of Rhoda.
There had been a long pause since Sir Robert’s last letter, and all at the Priory were rather anxious as to his movements. He had said nothing about coming home, had not answered a question put on the subject by his son, and there was much perplexity as to the cause of his silence.
It was now six months since the death of Lady Sarah, and the first horror of the event had passed away.