“She is. Arthur’s gone off somewhere, Mrs. Bowles said. I don’t know where.”
Mr. Dawn had no idea either. His daughter had not written him of her meeting with Arthur.
Presently he said, with a smile:
“Rebecca, I have a bright idea. Hurry up and get strong enough to travel, and I’ll take you and Rachel South with me on a visit to Cinthia, if you would like it.”
“Like it! Oh,” she cried, with sudden, pleasurable excitement, “indeed I should, Everard. It will take the rheumatism out of my old bones, the blessed sunshine of the warm South.”
“Yes; all you need is a change. You are not so much sick as just pining,” commented Rachel Dane.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
PUPPETS OF FATE.
No ordinary circumstance would have availed to keep Mrs. Varian at Idlewild after she had discovered Everard Dawn’s return to the neighborhood, but on the same day of her sudden determination to leave, fate intervened to prevent her immediate flight.
Her clever, skillful maid, the faithful attendant of many years, without whom Mrs. Varian was as helpless as a child, was taken ill with a serious cold and confined to her bed for several days.
Her mistress was in despair, but even her imperious will was powerless now against the inroads of illness. She had to abide the woman’s recovery with patience, however much she chafed in secret against the unwelcome delay.