With a half-uttered exclamation, Lionel was speeding off, when he appeared to remember Lucy. He turned to take her with him.
"No," said Lucy, stopping. "I could not go as quickly as you; and a minute, more or less, may make all the difference. There is nothing to hurt me. You make the best of your way. It is for your wife's sake."
There was good sense in all she said, and Lionel started off with a fleet foot. Before Lucy had quite gained the Court she saw him coming back to meet her. He drew her hand within his arm in silence, and kept his own upon it for an instant's grateful pressure.
"Thank you, Lucy, for what you have done. Thank you now and ever. I was too late."
"Is Mrs. Verner gone?"
"She has been gone these ten minutes past, Catherine says. A fly was found immediately."
They turned into the house; into the sitting-room. Lucy threw off the large shawl and the shapeless green bonnet: at any other moment she would have laughed at the figure she must have looked in them. The tea-things still waited on the table.
"Shall I make you some tea?" she asked.
Lionel shook his head. "I must go up and dress. I shall go after Sibylla."