"The hotel was stifling," she said, in a voice that vainly tried for steadiness.
Julie perceived that she had been weeping.
"Aileen is asleep?"
"Perhaps. They have given her something to make her sleep."
They walked on towards the hotel.
Julie hesitated.
"She was not disappointed?" she said, at last, in a low voice.
"No!" said the mother, sharply. "But one knew, of course, there must be letters for her. Thank God, she can feel that his very last thought was for her! The letters which have reached her are dated the day before the fatal attack began--giving a complete account of his march--most interesting--showing how he trusted her already--though she is such a child. It will tranquillize her to feel how completely she possessed his heart--poor fellow!"
Julie said nothing, and Lady Blanche, with bitter satisfaction, felt rather than saw what seemed to her the just humiliation expressed in the drooping and black-veiled figure beside her.
Next day there was once more a tinge of color on Aileen's cheeks. Her beautiful hair fell round her once more in a soft life and confusion, and the roses which her mother had placed beside her on the bed were not in too pitiful contrast with her frail loveliness.