But Richard North, with his good common sense, was an obedient patient. He knew how necessary it was for his business, that he should not long be laid by, and he kept as quiet as Mr. Seeley could desire. No stranger was allowed to disturb him; none of the household presumed to carry him the smallest item of public or domestic news. It was during this confinement of Richard's that Ellen Adair received her summons for departure. Her father had arrived in London, and wrote to Mrs. Cumberland--unconscious of that lady's death--begging that she and Ellen would at once join him there. He apologized for not coming to Dallory, but said that family business required his presence in London. Mr. North at first proposed to take Ellen up herself: but he was really not able to do it: and it was decided that madam's maid should attend her thither.
Ellen was allowed to go in and bid goodbye to Richard before her departure. She burst into tears as she strove to thank him for his kindness.
"You must come and see papa as soon as you are well enough, Richard. When I tell him how kind you have been, he will want to see and thank you."
"Goodbye, my dear," said Richard, releasing her hand. "I trust you will soon get up all your spirits again, now your father has come."
She smiled faintly. It was not on her father--so imperfectly, if at all, remembered--that her spirits depended. As Ellen was passing through the hall to enter the carriage that would take her to the station, she found herself touched by madam, and drawn into the dining-room.
"You have not seemed very happy with us, Miss Adair. But I have tried to make you so."
"Yes, madam, I am sure you have; and I thank you," returned Ellen gratefully--for madam really did appear to have been very kind to her of late. "I trust papa will have an opportunity of thanking you and Mr. North personally."
Madam coughed. "If you think I deserve thanks, I wish you would do me a slight favour in return."
"If I can. Certainly."
"Some years ago, when we were in India," proceeded madam, "my late husband, Major Bohun, and your father were acquainted with each other. Some unpleasant circumstances took place between them: a quarrel in fact. Major Bohun considered he was injured; Mr. Adair thought it was himself who was so. It was altogether very painful, and I would not for the world have that old matter raked up again; it would cost me too much pain. Will you, then, guard from Mr. Adair's knowledge that I, Mrs. North, am she who was once Mrs. Bohun?"