Volume Three—Chapter Eleven.
Millicent Hallam Learns a Little more of the Truth.
It was a painful evening that last. Every one was assuming to be light-hearted, and talking of the voyage as being pleasant, and hinting delicately at the possibility of seeing mother and daughter soon again, but all the while feeling that the farewells must in all probability be final.
Mr and Mrs Thickens retired early, for the latter whispered to her husband that she could bear it no longer.
“I feel, dear, as if it were a funeral, and we were being kept all this while standing by the open grave!”
“Hush!” whispered back Thickens; “it’s like prophesying evil.” And they hurriedly took leave.
Then Sir Gordon rose, saying that it was very late, and he, too, went, leaving mother and daughter exchanging glances, for the old man seemed cool and unruffled in an extraordinary degree.
Bayle remained a little longer, talking to Doctor and Mrs Luttrell, whose favourite attitudes all the evening had been seated on either side of Julia, each holding a hand.