It should have been mentioned that Signor de Castella had sent an express to the Baron de la Chasse, to arrest his journey to Beaufoy. But he came, nevertheless: much concerned, of course. He saw Adeline for a few minutes in the presence of her mother and aunt. It was on the very day they were to have been married. He was excessively shocked at her death-like appearance--to which there's not the least doubt the sight of himself contributed--but endeavoured to express many a kind hope of her speedy recovery, hinting that he was an interested party in it.
"She is very ill!" he exclaimed to Rose, when they met downstairs, before his departure.
"Very," lamented Rose. "And to think those beautiful wedding things, that were to have been worn today, are shut up out of sight in drawers and boxes!"
"Where's that presuming Anglais?" asked the Frenchman.
"Oh, he's gone back to his own country," replied Rose, carelessly. "Ages ago, it seem now. I don't think you and he need have quarrelled over her, Monsieur le Baron."
He detected her meaning--that Adeline would not live to belong to either--and he bent his head in sorrow, and stroked his silky yellow moustache, and began to speak in a feeling, thoughtful manner of her illness; of the mischief of the spring which had broken out again, when they had all deemed it cured. He had no idea, and never could have any, that this had been brought on by the misery and emotion that were too great to bear.
Meanwhile Mrs. Brayford had been sought for in vain. She was still absent from Belport, in attendance on the little heir of Alnwick. A French nurse came to Beaufoy to occupy her place. A tall, thin, dark-eyed, quick woman, dressed in black; kind enough, and very capable; but with a gossiping tongue that rivalled at least that of Louise.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
THE SICK CHAMBER
"Draw aside the curtain, Rose," said Adeline de Castella, feebly. "The sun has passed."