"Were you? I called to you outside on the terrace, but no one answered."
"Sir Karl is out, then?"
"He is strolling about somewhere," replied Lucy. "He does not sleep well, and likes to take half an hour's stroll the last thing. It strikes me sometimes that Karl's not strong, Theresa: but I try to throw the fear off."
Miss Blake drew in her lips, biting them to an enforced silence. She was burning to say what she could say, but knew it would be premature.
"I will wish you goodnight, Lucy, my dear. I am tired, and--and out of sorts."
"Good night, Theresa: dormez bien," was the gay answer.
"To waste her love and solicitude upon him!" thought Miss Blake, as she stepped along the corridor with erect head and haughty brow. "I told Colonel Cleeve before the marriage that he was wild--little Dennet had said so--but I was put down. No wonder Sir Karl cannot spend his income on his home! he has other ways and means for it. Oh, how true are the words of holy writ! 'The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.'"
[CHAPTER XV.]
Revealed to Lady Andinnian
The morning sun had chased away the dew on the grass, but the
hedge-rows were giving out their fragrance, and the lark and blackbird sang in the trees. Miss Blake was returning from early service at St. Jerome's; or, as St. Jerome people called it, Matins.