“I think so, Madam, for he will have nothing else to do.”
“It was natural,” said Mrs. Trevanion, “that he should hesitate to come off in a moment. Why should he, indeed? There was nothing to break the shock to him—as there was to us—”
“To break the shock?” Jane murmured, with a look of astonishment.
“You know what I mean,” her mistress said, with a little impatience. “When things happen like the things that have happened, one does not think very much of a midnight journey. Ah, what a small matter that is! But one who has—nothing to speak of on his mind—”
“He ought to have a great deal on his mind,” said Jane.
“Ought! Yes, I suppose I ought to be half dead, and, on the contrary, I am revived by the night journey. I am able for anything. There is no ought in such matters—it is according to your strength.”
“You have not slept a wink,” said Jane, in an injured voice.
“There are better things than sleep. And he is young, and has not learned yet the lesson that I have had such difficulty in learning.”
“What lesson is that?” said Jane, quickly. “If it is to think of everything and every one’s business, you have been indeed a long time learning, for you have been at it all your life.”
“It takes a long time to learn,” said Madam, with a smile; “the young do not take it in so easily. Come, Jane, we are arriving; we must think now of our new way of living.”