The woman departed, anxious for her meal.
She came back in a little over half an hour, to find Evelyn sitting up in bed, her eyes red from all the tears she had shed, and her face pale.
“Well,” she said, “have you brought up anything?”
“Only hot water for your bath, my dear. I was not allowed to go off even with a biscuit.”
“Oh dear! then I’ll die—I really shall. You don’t know how weak I am! Aunt Frances will have killed me! Oh, this is too awful!”
“You had better get up now, Miss Evelyn. You are very fat and stout, my dear, and missing one meal will not kill you, so don’t think it.”
“I know what I do think, Jasper, and that is that you are horrid!” said Evelyn.
But she had scarcely uttered the words before there came a low but very distinct knock on the door. Jasper went to open it. Evelyn’s heart began to beat with a mixture of alarm and triumph. Of course this was some one coming with her breakfast. Or could it be, possibly—— But no; even Lady Frances would not go so far as to come to gloat over her victim’s miseries.
Nevertheless, it was Lady Frances. She walked boldly into the room.
“You can go, Jasper,” she said. “I have something I wish to say to Miss Wynford.”