Helena withdrew her hand.
"How strange!—how strange!" She covered her eyes. There was a silence.
After it, Buntingford resumed:
"Has Geoffrey told you the first warning of it—you left this room?"
"No."
He described the incident of the sketch.
"It was a drawing I had made of her only a few weeks before she left me. I had no idea it was in that portfolio. We had scarcely time to put it away before Mr. Alcott's note arrived—sending for me at once."
Helena's hands had dropped, while she hung upon his story. And a wonderful unconscious sweetness had stolen into her expression. Her young heart was in her eyes.
"Oh, I am so glad—so glad—you had that warning!"
Buntingford was deeply touched.
"You dear child!" he said in a rather choked voice, and, rising, he walked away from her to the further end of the room. When he returned, he found a pale and thoughtful Helena.