It was nearly eleven o'clock before the family assembled to breakfast, and Mr. Villars had already retired to his study, leaving the morning-room to its listless occupants. Maria, being the most active of the family, generally presided at breakfast and tea, and kept alive the yawning faculties of the party. On this occasion, she was busily, and relentlessly rallying Caroline on the last night's tête-à-tête, when Hargrave himself entered. He seemed entirely to have lost the gaiety of the evening before, and to have assumed the gravity of a judge. To Mrs. Villars' enquiries of whether he had slept well, he answered courteously, but gravely; and Caroline afterwards observed to Selina, that the dear creature was quite different when alone with her, and Selina, in return, lispingly suggested, that he might be shy before strangers. He did not, however, justify this remark by any of the little awkwardnesses which so often accompany that feeling. On the contrary, he seemed rather to seek the indulgence of one who is secure of favor, however small the pains he may take to acquire it. Nor was he mistaken. They were prepared to admire him, and his variable humours only gave him an additional charm in their eyes.
"What time do you receive your letters?" he enquired of Caroline.
"About this time," she replied; "are you expecting any? for, if so, you will not have very long to wait?"
"Indeed," he replied, not noticing her question.
At this moment the peculiar double knock of the post-man began to be heard uncertainly, then louder and louder, as, coming round the street, he stopped at their door.
"Here he is," exclaimed Lucy; "I wonder if there is a letter from Mabel."
Two were brought; one for Mrs. Villars, and the other for her guest. They were both written by Mr. Ware; the one addressed to Mrs. Villars, contained a brief, but touching account of the fire, the illness of her sister, and her removal to Aston Manor; concluding with poor Amy's death.
Mrs. Villars slowly read the letter aloud, but when she reached the last few lines, which spoke of her niece's death, a loud shriek burst from Lucy, as she rose and flew to her own room. Hargrave followed her to the door with a deeper interest than he had before displayed, but she had quickly vanished, and he returned to his seat.
"She has been staying with them," said Mrs. Villars, in explanation; "and the dear girl has so much feeling—but, colonel, only think of my sister being at Aston Manor; but, perhaps, I ought not to have told you, as I suppose the servants make free with the place in your absence."