"Ah, but the mother, don't you know! That's where the danger comes in. The mother has never been quite right," argued her husband.
"I am not going to accept congratulations," said Mrs. Mornington. "I'm very sorry the marriage has been postponed. Mr. Wornock and Suzette are admirably adapted for each other, and he is no more cracked than I am. And remember the marriage is put off—not broken off."
"All the more reason why she should not send me back that Japanese absurdity," said Mrs. Roebuck, as if the paper-knife were of as much consequence as the marriage.
Suzette saw Mrs. Wornock nearly every day during that time of trouble—sometimes at Discombe, where they sat together in the music-room, or paced the wintry garden, saying very little to each other, but the elder woman taking comfort from the presence of the younger.
"I am miserable about him," she told Suzette; and that was all she would ever say of her son.
She had no suggestions to offer as to the cause of his disappearance. She uttered no complaint of his unkindness.
Suzette inquired if the police had made any discovery about Allan's assailant.
No, nothing; or, at least, Mrs. Wornock had heard of nothing.
"Lady Emily may know more than she cares to tell me," she said.