She went back quietly, and waited long, until her friends had retired by the opposite door: then she came and whispered:—
"I have been long: but I did not wish to speak before my mother. Now your parents are alone: go and speak."
"Something more first. Go back, Fanny, and say that I can tell them the truth, only on the condition that mother and grandmother promise not to seek him out, until I show them a letter from Lorand, in which he invites them to come to him: nor to send others in search of him: and, if they wish to send a letter to him, they must first give it to me, that I may send it off to him, and they never show, even by a look, to anyone that they know aught of Lorand's whereabouts."
Fanny nodded assent, and returned into the neighboring room.
A few minutes later she came out again, and held open the door before me.
"Come in."
I went in. She shut the door after me, and then, taking my hand, led me to mother's bedside.
Poor dear mother was now quiet, and pale as death. She seemed to beckon me to her with her eyes. I went to her side, and kissed her hand.
Fanny bent over me, and held her face near my lips, that I might whisper in her ear what I knew.
I told her all in a few words. She then bent over mother's pillow and whispered in her ear what she had heard from me.