“Yes, dear. You will know quite soon enough. Now go.”
Isabel, who had looked upon them both as elder sisters, whom she must obey, almost from a child, left the room without a word.
“Will it be best to go to him, Saxa?” said Dana hoarsely.
“Yes; we may be girls who have been laughed at through the country for our love of horses and the hunt,” said Saxa firmly, “but we have always been ladies, and we will show these men that we are not to be treated as if we were already their wives and slaves.”
“Papa is quite alone now, Saxa,” said Isabel, reappearing at the door. “O Saxa, dear—Dana—can’t I do anything for you?”
“No, dear,” said the elder sister gravely, “it is not your fault.”
“Nurse said you must please not say anything to agitate papa,” said Isabel gently.
Saxa looked at her half pityingly, and then went slowly out, followed by her sister.
“Nurse!” she muttered in a contemptuous whisper, as she went along the corridor to Mr Elthorne’s door. “O Dan, quick; let’s take the leap, and have it over, for, after all, it can’t be true.”
She turned the handle of the door, and a cry of welcome arose from the couch.