Esther sat down and put her hand to her heart. Her face was ghastly.
"I knew it," murmured Cherry under her breath. "She have gone and fallen in love with a chap from one of them slums."
Aloud she said in a brisk tone:—
"Yes, he's gone. I don't suppose there's much in it. He were tired of the attic, that's all. I sleep easy of nights now. No more pacing the boards overhead, nor hack, hack, hack coughing fit to wake the seven sleepers. What's the matter, Esther?"
"You are the most heartless girl I ever met," said Esther. "No, I don't want your tea."
She tied her bonnet strings and left the house without glancing at her crestfallen cousin.
That very same afternoon, as Mrs. Wyndham was sitting in her bedroom, trying to amuse baby, who was in a slightly refractory humor, there came a sudden message for her. One of the maids came into the room with the information that Helps was downstairs and wanted to speak to her directly.
Mrs. Wyndham had not left her room since Tuesday evening. There was nothing apparently the matter with her, and yet all through the week her pulse had beat too quickly, and a hectic color came and went on her cheeks. She ate very little, she slept badly, and the watchful expression in her eyes took from their beauty and gave them a strained appearance. She did not know herself why she was watchful, or what she was waiting for, but she was consciously nervous and ill at ease.
When the maid brought the information that Helps was downstairs, her mistress instantly started to her feet, almost pushing the astonished and indignant baby aside.
"Take care of Master Gerry," she said to the girl. "I will go and speak to Mr. Helps; where is he?"