Chapter Eleven.
After the Ball.
“Good-night, and good-bye for the present, though I shall be coming over to Coombesthorpe in a day or two. I am going home very early to-morrow morning, before any of you good people will be stirring,” said Sir Philip to his cousins, when, all the guests save those staying in the house having departed, these last were dispersing for the night.
“You’re in a fidget about Aunt Anna,” said Ermine. “I can see it, Phil—you should have more trust in my assurances.”
“I have—unlimited; still I shall be more comfortable when I have seen her, I confess,” he said.
“Well, come over as soon as you can,” said Madelene. “You know,” she went on, “you haven’t forgotten that our sister—Ella—is with us?”
There was a tone of constraint in her voice which Sir Philip perceived at once.
“Poor Maddie,” he thought, “she is too good to say so, but I can see—I feel sure—that that child is a great torment to her.” And “No indeed,” he went on, “worse luck. I have not forgotten that fact.”