"Edward says he'll kill himself!" sobbed Edith.
"My dear," sighed her friend, "Arthur said so too when we parted. He is alive still. I am Edward's sister, and yet, you see, I am quite easy. Do not fret, dear. You must come with me to the Mitfords this evening."
"I can't, Bertha."
"My dearest girl, you must. It is extremely selfish to brood over sorrow."
With this she kissed her, and they entered the house together.
"Burns, come in to dinner," said the voice of Mrs. Marks, addressing me from the arched doorway.
I obeyed, and, for some unexplained reason, was consigned to my room during the rest of the day, which I spent by the window, still watching for my friend with a patient persistent hope that would not be conquered. I was so absorbed that I never heard Mrs. Marks enter, until she said, close behind me, "Burns, what are you always looking out of that window for?"
Before I could reply, a sharp voice inquired from the corridor:
"Mrs. Marks, who is it I have twice this day heard you addressing by the extraordinary name of Burns?"
We both looked round. Mrs. Marks had left my door open; exactly opposite it stood a ladder leading to a trap-door in the roof of the house, through which Mr. Thornton, who had gone to survey the progress of an observatory he was causing to be erected there, now appeared descending.