She walked towards the artificial water. The sky was melancholy and grey, and the park lay before her, hushed and soundless. Through the shadows of the darkening island two swans floated softly, leaving behind slight silver lines; above, the swallows flew high in the evening. There was sensation of death, too, in this cold, mournful water, and in the silence that hung about it, and in some vague way it reminded Emily of her own life. She had known little else but death; her life seemed full of death; and those reflections, so distinct and so colourless, were like death.

Then, in a sudden expansion of youth she wondered. Her own life, how strange, how personal, how intense! What did it mean, what meaning had it in the great, wide world? And the impressive tranquillity, the pale death of the day, lying like a flower on the water, seemed to symbolise her thought, and she felt more distinctly than she had ever done before. And there arose in her a nervous and passionate interest in herself. She seemed so strange, so wonderful. Her childhood was in itself an enigma. That sad and sorrowful childhood of hers, passed in that old London house; her mother's love for her; her cruel, stern stepfather, and the endless quarrels between her father and mother, which made her young life so unbearable, so wretched, that she could never think of those years without tears rising to her eyes. And then the going away, coming to live with Mr. Burnett! The death of her father and her dear mother, so sudden, following so soon one after the other. How much there had been in her life, how wonderful it was! Her love of Mr. Burnett, and then that bitter and passionate change in him! That proposal of marriage; could she ever forget it? And then this cruel and sudden death. Everything she had ever loved had been taken from her. Only Julia remained, and should Julia be taken from her, she felt that she must die. But that would not, could not, happen. She was now mistress of Ashwood, she was a great heiress; and she and Julia would live always together, they would always love one another, they would always live here in this beautiful place which they loved so well.

VIII

There were at the funeral a few personal friends who lived in the neighbourhood, the farmers on the estate, and the labourers; and when the little crowd separated outside the church, Emily and Julia walked back to Ashwood with Mr. Grandly, Mr. Burnett's intimate friend and solicitor. They returned through the park, hardly speaking at all, Emily absent-minded as usual, waving her parasol occasionally at a passing butterfly. The grass was warm and beautiful to look on, and they lingered, prolonging the walk. It was very good of Mr. Grandly to accompany them back; he might have gone on straight to the station, so Julia thought, and she was surprised indeed when, instead of bidding them good-bye at the front door, he said—

'Before I return to London I have a communication to make to both you ladies. Will it suit you to come into the drawing-room with me?'

'Perfectly, so far as I'm concerned; and you, Emily?'

'Oh, I've nothing to do; but if it is about business, Julia will attend——'

'I think you had better be present, Miss Watson.'