M. de Mellissie came at the call, and was talking to me for the rest of the evening.
The great things that a night may bring forth! The sadness that the rising of another sun may be bearing to us on its hot wings!
It was the morning following the soirée. I was in the schoolroom with the girls, but quitted it for a minute to read a letter in peace that arrived by the early post. It was written by Miss Barlieu. A very kind letter, telling me to go back to them while I looked out for a fresh situation, should I not get one before leaving Mrs. Paler. Suddenly the door opened, and Mrs. Paler came in without any ceremony of knocking, her face white, and an open letter in her hand. She looked scared, fierce; agitation impeding her free utterance.
"Here's news!" she brought out at length, her voice rising to a scream; "here's news to come upon me like a thunderbolt! Does he expect me to live through it?"
"Oh, Mrs. Paler, what has happened? You look ill and terrified. You have had bad tidings! Will you not tell them to me?"
"What else have I come for but to tell you?" she retorted, speaking in a tone that betrayed as much anger as distress. "I went to the study after you, and frightened the girls; they were for following me here, so I locked them in. I must tell some one, or my feelings will burst bounds; they always were of a demonstrative nature. Not like his, the sly, quiet fox!"
My fears flew to Mr. Paler. He had been in England some time now, ever since the middle of May. Though I did not understand her anger, or the last words.
"You have heard from Mr. Paler, madam!" I uttered. "Some harm has happened to him!"
"Harm! yes, it has. Harm to me and my children, though, more than to him. Miss Hereford, he has just gone and ruined himself."
"How?" I asked, feeling grieved and puzzled.