Then Violet looked around at her brother with a charming smile.
"I came alone that I might have a quiet chat with our old friend," she said, "and I dare say you have finished your call; so you may just take yourself off, Walter."
Walter looked uneasy, but her careless gaiety disarmed his vague dread. He went up to Jaquelina and held out his hand.
"I must give way to Violet this time," he said, "but I will call again to-morrow and continue our interrupted conversation, if you will permit me."
Jaquelina turned courteously to her guest, who had thrown herself wearily into a cushioned chair.
"I hope your mamma is well, Miss Earle," she said, gently, thinking of the faded little lady who had always been so kind.
Violet looked surprised and pained.
"Did not Walter tell you?" she cried. "Oh, Lina, mamma is dead!"
"Dead!" cried Jaquelina, and the quick tears sprang into her eyes. "I am sorry. No one had told me of it. How long is it, Violet?"
"Almost three years now," answered Violet, sadly: "She died the winter you went away. I—I do not like to recall it. I was away at the time, visiting the Valchesters in Richmond. It was very, very sudden. She had disease of the heart."