In about half an hour he rose to depart. Mrs. Castlemaine offered luncheon, but he declined it. He had been a lazy lie-abed that morning, he said with a laughing smile, and it seemed but now almost that he had taken his breakfast at the Turk's Head. The impression he left behind him was not so much of a stranger, as of an acquaintance they had known, so pleasant and easy had been the intercourse during the interview; and an acquaintance they were sorry to part with.
Madame Guise went with him across the lawn. Mrs. Castlemaine would have gone too, but that Ethel stopped her.
"Mamma, don't," she whispered: "they may be glad to have a few moments alone. I fancy Madame Guise cannot have seen him since before her husband died: she seemed quite agitated when he came in."
"True," said Mrs. Castlemaine, for once recognising reason in words of Ethel's. "What a gentlemanly young fellow he seems--in spite of that wide straw hat."
He had put the straw hat on, and seemed to be looking at the different flower beds in his progress; Madame Guise pointing to one and another with her finger. Had Mrs. Castlemaine caught but a word of the private conversation being carried on under the semblance of admiring the flowers, she might have stolen out to listen in the gratification of her curiosity. Which would not have served her, for they spoke in French.
"How you startled me, George!" cried Madame Guise, as their heads were both bent over a rose-tree. "I thought I should have fainted. It might have made me discover all. Let us walk on!"
"Well, I suppose I ought to have written first. But I thought I should be introduced to you alone--your being here as the governess."
"How are they all at Gap?--Look at these carnations.--How is Emma? Did you get my letter through her?"
"I got it when I reached Gap. They are all well. She gave me your letter and what news she could. I cannot understand it, Charlotte. Where is Anthony?"
"Dead. Murdered. As I truly and fully believe."