“I have come here to say that father and mother expect you all to return home to-morrow. If you can make it convenient to be back after early dinner, it will suit us best. No, I will not stay now; thank you very much, Miss Carter. It is necessary that the girls should return then, for their duties await them. Mother is so much better, and she will be delighted to see them. I am afraid I must go now. At what hour shall we expect you to-morrow?”
“You needn’t expect us all,” was on Molly’s lips. Ethel frowned and bit hers. Molly raised her eyes and saw Jim looking at her.
“I suppose,” she stammered, turning crimson—“I suppose about—about three o’clock.”
“Yes, three o’clock will do nicely. I will send a cab up to fetch your luggage.”
“You needn’t do that,” said Jim; “I’ll drive the girls down on the dogcart and all their belongings with them,” he added.
He walked a little way back with Marcia.
“I am so very glad Mrs Aldworth is better. You know, somehow or other, Miss Aldworth, we felt that we were to blame for that attack. We ought not to have coaxed your sisters to come back with us that night.”
“We needn’t talk of it now,” said Marcia. “Something very dreadful might have happened. God in his goodness prevented it, and I greatly trust, Mr Carter, that Mrs Aldworth will get much better in health now than she has ever been before.”
“Well, that is excellent news,” he said.
He opened the gate for Marcia.