When Jane Payland was brushing her mistress's hair that night, she ventured to sound her as to her future movements, by a few cautions and respectful questions, to which Lady Eversleigh replied with less than her usual reticence. From her lady's answers, the waiting-maid ascertained that she had no idea of seeking any relaxation in change of scene, but purposed to reside at Raynham for at least one year.
Jane Payland wondered at the decision of her mistress's manner. She had imagined that Lady Eversleigh would be eager to leave a place in which she found herself the object of disapprobation and contempt.
"If I were her, I would go to France, and be a great lady in Paris—which is twenty times gayer and more delightful than any place in stupid, straight-laced old England," thought Jane Payland. "If I had her money, I would spend it, and enjoy life, in spite of all the world."
"I'm afraid your health will suffer from a long residence at the castle, my lady," said Jane, presently, determined to do all in her power to bring about a change in her mistress's plans. "After such a shock as you have had, some distraction must be necessary. When I had the honour of living with the Duchess of Mountaintour, and we lost the dear duke, the first thing I said to the duchess, after the funeral, was—'Change of scene, your grace, change of scene; nothing like change of scene when the mind has received a sudden blow.' The sweet duchess's physician actually echoed my words, though he had never heard them; and within a week of the sad ceremony we started for the Continent, where we remained a year; at the end of which period the dear duchess was united to the Marquis of Purpeltown."
"The duchess was speedily consoled," replied Lady Eversleigh, with a smile which was not without bitterness. "No doubt the variety and excitement of a Continental tour did much towards blotting out all memory of her dead husband. But I do not wish to forget. I am in no hurry to obliterate the image of one who was most dear to me."
Jane Payland looked very searchingly at the pale, earnest face reflected in the glass.
"For me, that which the world calls pleasure never possessed any powerful fascination," continued Honoria, gravely. "My childhood and youth were steeped in sorrow—sorrow beyond anything you can imagine, Jane Payland; though I have heard you say that you have seen much trouble. The remembrance of it comes back to me more vividly than ever now. Thus it is that I shrink from society, which can give me no real pleasure. Had I no special reason for remaining at Raynham, I should not care to leave it"
"But you have a special reason, my lady?" inquired Jane, eagerly.
"I have."
"May I presume to ask—"