"Yes, and Lizzie, with little Bobby."
"And he?"
"Who?"
"Charles."
"No, Mother, but he is at Rosedale, well and hopeful. You know some one is needed there to take care of the place and servants. But Pearl is below stairs and will be here to see you after dinner."
The good things on the small table, however, remained untouched, for the once proud mistress of Rosedale was silently watching the curtain, that had fallen around her world, slowly move one side, as the panorama of the past came laggardly to view. Lillian watched the changing expression on the thin face with interest, unwilling to interrupt the ebbing emotions she was sure were casting their flitting shadows upon it. Not until the sound of feet coming along the hall, and then halting before the door, was a word spoken. "Mother; Pearl has come," and, without permission, Lillian arose and opened the door.
"Just as I left you;" he exclaimed, cheerfully, stepping to the side of the invalid's chair. "Surely you have not been sitting here all the time?"
She did not move or look at him.
"It is too bad to stay in this one room so long, and to-day we will have a change. In an hour, Lillian, there will be a carriage at the door, and we will take Mother to another room, where she will not be obliged to look upon the same wall of brick and stone always."
She started, and her gaze rested on the manly face so near her own.