And the hypocrite, loathing her hypocrisy, heard herself answer, "Oh, I know! Oh yes!"
At Harrogate the orchestra would be playing now, and he was wondering if she had told them yet! She gazed before her helplessly. She would have to put it off till to-morrow.
Said Mildred, "I daresay Aunt would like to go to bed early."
"If you'll all excuse me, dear, I think I should."
"I think we're all of us ready, aren't we?" murmured Mrs. Findon.
And as they got up and filed from the room, Amy said in sacerdotal tones, "There's one thing we want to do, isn't there, before we go upstairs to-night?" And, like one who performs a rite, she opened the study door; and on the threshold they drooped devoutly.
"O God, forgive me, and help me to be truthful!" prayed the hypocrite when she was alone.
The morrow was Sunday, and in the morning they went to church; and after service they walked dismally to the cemetery. At dinner she could scarcely swallow. She felt faint, and her hands trembled when the return to the drawing-room was made. It had to be now! Her sister-in-law was settling herself for a nap. Amy turned listlessly the pages of a book. Mildred, her shallow eyes upturned, and her head slightly sideways, wore an air of pious resignation to some unexpressed calamity. Turning from the window, with a gulp, the coward stammered:
"Oh ... after you had gone from Harrogate, Mr. Murray asked me to marry him."
The silence seemed to her to last for minutes.