"Yes. Provided you feel equal to going."
Sibylla took breakfast in her own room, according to custom. Formerly, she had done so through idleness: now, she was really not well enough to rise early. Lionel, when he joined the family breakfast table, announced the news; announced it in his own characteristic manner.
"Sibylla thinks, after all, that she will be better at home this evening," he said. "I am glad she has so decided it."
"Her senses have come to her, have they?" remarked Lady Verner.
He made no reply. He never did make a reply to any shaft lanced by Lady Verner at his wife. My lady was sparing of her shafts in a general way since they had resided with her, but she did throw one out now and then.
"You will go with me then, Lionel?"
He shook his head, telling his mother she must excuse him: it was not his intention to be present.
Sibylla continued in a remarkably quiet, not to say affable, temper all day. Lionel was out, but returned home to dinner. By and by Lady Verner and Decima retired to dress. Lucy went up with Decima, and Lionel remained with his wife.
When they came down, Sibylla was asleep on the sofa. Lady Verner wore some of the magnificent and yet quiet attire that had pertained to her gayer days; Decima was in white. Lionel put on his hat, and went out to hand them into the carriage that waited. As he did so, the aspect of his sister's face struck him.
"What is the matter, Decima?" he exclaimed. "You are looking perfectly white."