"Do come to us at once, my dear Lionel! A most strange report has reached us, and mamma is like one bereft of her senses. She wants you here to contradict it; she says she knows it cannot have any foundation.
DECIMA."
Somehow the words seemed to subdue Sibylla's irritation. She returned the note to Lionel, and spoke in a hushed, gentle tone. "Is it this report that she alludes to, do you think, Lionel?"
"I fear so. I do not know what other it can be. I am vexed that it should already have reached the ears of my mother."
"Of course!" resentfully spoke Sibylla. "You would have spared her!"
"I would have spared my mother, had it been in my power. I would have spared my wife," he added, bending his grave, kind face towards her, "that, and all other ill."
She dashed down the front blinds of the carriage, and laid her head upon his bosom, sobbing repentantly.
"You would bear with me, Lionel, if you knew the pain I have here"—touching her chest. "I am sick and ill with fright."
He did not answer that he did bear with her—bear with her most patiently—as he might have done. He only placed his arm round her that she might feel its shelter; and, with his gentle fingers, pushed the golden curls away from her cheeks, for her tears were wetting them.
She went into her sister's house alone. She preferred to do so. The carriage took Lionel on to Deerham Court. He dismissed it when he alighted; ordering Wigham back to Miss West's, to await the pleasure of his mistress.