“No news for me?”
She had no news.
Mrs. Culling was with her. The colonel stepped on mystified to his room.
When the door had closed Cecilia turned to Rosamund and burst into tears. Rosamund felt that it must be something grave indeed for the proud young lady so to betray a troubled spirit.
“He is ill—Dr. Shrapnel is very ill,” Cecilia responded to one or two subdued inquiries in as clear a voice as she could command.
“Where have you heard of him?” Rosamund asked.
“We have been there.”
“Bevisham? to Bevisham?” Rosamund was considering the opinion Mr. Romfrey would form of the matter from the point of view of his horses.
“It was Nevil’s wish,” said Cecilia.
“Yes? and you went with him,” Rosamund encouraged her to proceed, gladdened at hearing her speak of Nevil by that name; “you have not been on the downs at all?”