She was still looking out of the window—still standing motionless near the table with her hand upon Thackeray's “Vanity Fair.”
“Yes,” she replied; “everything you suggest seems wise and prudent.”
“Then will you see mother and Molly in their rooms and forewarn them to say nothing—nothing that may betray our anxiety?”
“Yes, I will see them.”
Sidney walked heavily to the door. Grasping the handle, he turned round once more.
“It is nearly half-past seven,” he said, with more confidence in his tone, “and Mary will soon be coming to awake you. It would not do for her to see you in that dress.”
Hilda turned and raised her eyes to his face.
“No,” she said, with a sudden smile; “I will change it at once.”