But Dante lay unopened, together with the English books. Miriam had spent a day or two of alternate languor and irritableness, unable to attend to anything serious. Just now she had in her hand Cecily's letter, the letter which told of what had happened. There was no reason for referring to it again; this afternoon Cecily herself had been here. But Miriam read over the pages, and dwelt upon them.
At dinner, no remark was made on the subject that occupied the minds of all three. Afterwards they sat together, as usual, and Eleanor played. In one of the silences, Miriam turned to Spence and asked him if he had seen Mr. Mallard.
"Yes; I found him after a good deal of going about," replied the other, glad to have done with artificial disregard of the subject.
"Does he know that they are going to Capri!"
"He evidently hadn't heard of it. I suppose he'll have a note from Mrs. Lessingham this evening or to-morrow."
Miriam waited a little, then asked:
"What is his own wish? What does he think ought to be arranged?"
"Just what Cecily told you," interposed Eleanor, before her husband could reply.
"I thought he might have spoken more freely to Edward."
"Well," answered Spence, "he is strongly of opinion that Reuben ought to go to England very soon. But I suppose Cecily told you that as well?"