He broke off with a sigh, which Hilary echoed from the depths of an aching heart.
“I will go at once and speak to the servants. I will set them to work to put the house in order, and hide all the preparations out of sight, and then come back here, and get the writing done first of all.”
“That’s my good girl!” said her father warmly; and they kissed each other with sympathetic affection.
Poor Hilary! She had need of all her courage to enable her to go through that morning’s work. The servants received her orders with tears of distress and disappointment Norah came stealing out of the room with the news that Lettice had cried all night long, could not be induced to eat, and lay on her bed icy cold and trembling as if with an ague. Miss Carr was too much upset to be able to leave her bed, and Geraldine’s straightforward questions were for once agonising to the listeners.
“Has Lettice been naughty?” she inquired. “Has Mr Newcome been naughty? Will she never wear her pretty dresses? Shall I never wear my dress? What shall we do with all the presents? Shall we have to send back the cake?”
“Oh, Mouse, be quiet, for pity’s sake!” cried Hilary in desperation. “If you ask any more questions you must go to bed. It’s very naughty and unkind;” at which unexpected reproof Geraldine’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Hilary; I only thought if you didn’t want it, perhaps Miss Briggs’s sister in Scarborough might like some cake—”
“Come along with me, Mouse, and I’ll give you a swing in the garden,” said Mr Rayner, coming to the rescue for the twentieth time. His presence was a comfort to every member of the household, and Hilary could never think of that dreadful morning without recalling the quiet, unobtrusive way in which he watched over her, and shielded her from every possible aggravation. When afternoon came, he insisted upon taking her to a quiet little coppice near the gates, so that she should not be in the house at the time of Arthur Newcome’s visit; but from their seat among the trees they heard the sound of wheels as the fly turned down the drive, and knew that the dreaded interview was at hand.
“Lettice begged and prayed not to see him, father says, but he insisted that she should go down. He said it was only due to Arthur. Fancy what it must be to the poor, poor fellow, to lose her at the last moment, and to have to go back to London and explain everything to his friends—when the house is ready, and all preparations made. I feel so angry and humiliated that I can’t be sorry for Lettice. She deserves all she suffers!”
Mr Rayner did not answer; and they sat in silence for five or ten minutes, at the expiration of which Hilary stole a glance at his face, and ventured a timid question.