“Very likely, my Lady, yes—at least, I don't know.”
“Mary!”
“I beg your pardon, madam,” replied the waiting-maid, starting like one aroused from a dream. “I was not thinking what I said; I was thinking of something else.”
“I think you might give me your attention, Mary,” returned my Lady sighing: “you cannot be thinking of anything so momentous as this matter, which involves sorrow, shame, and perchance utter ruin.”
“Alas! but I can, my Lady,” answered the other gravely; “and I am doing it. There has something happened worse than anything you can guess at. Master Walter”——
“Great Heaven! has any accident happened to my boy? I saw him hut an hour ago; he came into my room, dear fellow, to bid me good-bye before he started for the station. The young horse was in the dog-cart——”
“Mary, Mary, do not—do not tell me that my Walter is killed!”
“He is quite well, my Lady, so far as I know—quite well in health.”
“Thank Heaven for that! Bless you for that, Mary! Why did you frighten me so, if there is nothing the matter?”
“There is something the matter, my Lady. Pray, command yourself; you will have need of all your fortitude. I would never tell it you—burdened as you are already—only you must know it; you, above all, and no one else, if we can help it.”