He turned his eyes on the dinner-table in a mechanical sort of way, his mind wholly preoccupied, made some remark in answer, which Miss Corny did not catch, and went out.
On his return his sister met him in the hall, drew him inside the nearest room, and closed the door. Lady Isabel was dead. Had been dead about ten minutes.
“She never spoke after you left her, Archibald. There was a slight struggle at the last, a fighting for breath, otherwise she went off quite peacefully. I felt sure, when I first saw her this afternoon, that she could not last till midnight.”
CHAPTER XLVII.
I. M. V.
Lord Mount Severn, wondering greatly what the urgent summons could be for, lost no time in obeying it, and was at East Lynne the following morning early. Mr. Carlyle had his carriage at the station—his close carriage—and shut up in that he made the communication to the earl as they drove to East Lynne.
The earl could with difficulty believe it. Never had he been so utterly astonished. At first he really could not understand the tale.
“Did she—did she—come back to your house to die?” he blundered. “You never took her in? I don’t understand.”
Mr. Carlyle explained further; and the earl at length understood. But he did not recover his perplexed astonishment.