"Bertie will be so disappointed if he does not see you to-night," cried she regretfully. A bitter smile, and the reiteration, "I cannot come down."
"Your hand is burning, child. You are in a fever. What is the matter?"
Cecil coldly withdrew it, in the same somnambulistic manner, and said she would lie down; and Mrs. Rolleston went out, hurt by her want of confidence, and much bewildered by many events of that day.
Lola next invaded her, sent by Bertie to entreat for admission. "He only just wants to come in for a minute, and see how you are."
"I can't see any one, my head is too bad; tell Bertie so. I am going to lock the door, and go to bed."
But she only threw herself on it. The light waned and darkened, and the moon arose. Then Cecil stole cautiously to the window and watched. Presently Du Meresq came out alone, and she knew he was on his way to the boat. He would look up, she was sure, and she entrenched herself behind the curtain. By the light of the moon she saw his gaze rivet itself on her window, as though it would pierce the gloom. His face was strangely pale, and even sad, and her rebellious heart throbbed wildly as she felt how perilously dear he still was to her. He turned away. Whatever he wore or did, there was a picturesque grace about him, thought Cecil; and as his boat became smaller and smaller in the distance, she wished, in the bitterness of her heart, they had both sunk in the squall of yesterday, e'er she had discovered how falsely he had lied to her.
Lola again disturbed her. "Papa says he is coming up in ten minutes to see you. Bertie told me to tell you he was very sorry you would not speak to him, or say good-bye."
Lola had dined late, it being her birthday, and wore Cecil's locket on a ribbon, but she looked scared and depressed. "It was so dull downstairs," she said. "Mamma had gone away after dinner, and talked a long time to Bluebell. Bertie had not come out of the dining room till it was time to go, and she had had no one to speak to but Miss Prosody—not a bit like a birthday."
"Lola," said Cecil, much too preoccupied to attend to her complaints, "has the letter bag gone down to the boat yet?"
"I saw it still open in the passage."