“Were it not that my illness makes it inevitable we should not be here at all.”
“So Nest proved to him,” remarked Sybil; “and she added, somewhat uncourteously, she would rather have you well, and be at home.”
“Nest must not be rude, but it is well she thinks so. I must get well as fast as possible. I shall leave this room to-morrow, I hope, Sybil.”
“How glad we shall be to have you down stairs,” said her sister.
“I shall not go down till I am well enough to go home,” replied Hilary, decidedly; “I hope to get into the dressing-room to-morrow, and on Monday, if Mr. Huyton will lend us his carriage, we can all go back to the Vicarage.”
“I am sure I shall be glad if we can,” was Sybil’s answer. She partly understood the motives of Hilary’s conduct.
“Where is Captain Hepburn?” added Hilary, after a pause, turning her head on the pillow of the sofa where she was lying. “Is he gone?”
“He went away yesterday morning, and hopes to come back again soon. He promised he would return as soon as he could.”
There was another pause; then Hilary asked—
“Did you see him yesterday?”