“I believe it was the frost killed them; I don’t know what else it could have been. You may remember those bitter days we had in January; they died then.”
“You are very good to take care of them all this while. How is East Lynne looking? Dear East Lynne! Is it occupied?”
“Not yet. I have spent some money upon it, and it repays the outlay.”
The excitement of his arrival had worn off, and she was looking herself again, pale and sad; he could not help observing that she was changed.
“I cannot expect to look so well at Castle Marling as I did at East Lynne,” she answered.
“I trust it is a happy home to you?” said Mr. Carlyle, speaking upon impulse.
She glanced up at him a look that he would never forget; it certainly told of despair. “No,” she said, shaking her head, “it is a miserable home, and I cannot remain in it. I have been awake all night, thinking where I can go, but I cannot tell; I have not a friend in the wide world.”
Never let people talk secrets before children, for be assured that they comprehend a vast deal more than is expedient; the saying “that little pitchers have great ears” is wonderfully true. Lord Vane held up his hand to Mr. Carlyle,—
“Isabel told me this morning that she should go away from us. Shall I tell you why? Mamma beat her yesterday when she was angry.”
“Be quiet, William!” interrupted Lady Isabel, her face in a flame.