"Yes, I've read it."
"Then how can you hesitate? Your husband is in danger: he may not survive: he will not, they say, unless a change takes place. You must hasten away by the first train."
"Mamma, you need not take the half of it for gospel. Madame de Mellissie is so wrapped up in her son, that if his finger aches she sends for a doctor, and asks whether it will mortify."
"Child! I must recommend you to go," was the impressive response of Lady Chandos.
"Of course I shall go; I never meant to hesitate," came the peevish answer. "But it is excessively tiresome."
It appeared that the letter to Mr. Chandos was also from Madame de Mellissie, asking him to urge his sister's instant departure. She finished her breakfast, and was leaving the room to prepare, when she saw me following.
"I do not want you just now, Miss Hereford. Pauline will see to my things."
"But I have my own to pack."
"Your own! What for? Alfred de Mellissie is not your husband, that you should hasten to him."
"But—am I not to go with you, madam?"