She turned round. It was Lady Caryisfort who had called her. And what was there more to be told? Now she knew all. Spigot was standing behind her, with a yellow envelope upon a silver tray. A telegram—the first one she had ever got in her life! No civility could hesitate before such a letter as that. But for the news which she had just heard she would have been frightened; but that preparation had steeled her. She tore it open and read it eagerly. Then she raised a bewildered look to Lady Caryisfort and Mr. Sugden, who were both close by her.
‘I don’t understand it,’ she said. She held it up to him, because he was nearest. And then suddenly put up her hand to stop him, as he began to read aloud. ‘Hush! Hush! Mrs. Hardwick is here,’ she said.
‘What is the matter?’ said Lady Caryisfort, rising to shield this group, which began to attract the eyes of the party. ‘Kate, what is your telegram about?’
Kate held it out to her without a word. The message it contained was this: “Sir Herbert Eldridge died here last night.’”
‘Sir Herbert Eldridge?’ repeated Lady Caryisfort. ‘What is he to you, Kate? What does it mean? Child, are you ill? You are like a ghost!’
‘He is nothing in the world to me,’ said Kate, rousing herself. ‘If I am like a ghost it is because—oh! I am so cold!—because—it is so strange! I never saw Sir Herbert Eldridge in my life. Mr. Sugden, what do you think it means?’
She looked up and looked round for the Curate. He was gone. She gazed all round her in consternation.
‘Where is he?’ she cried.
‘The gentleman you were talking to went out a minute ago. Who is he? Kate, dear, don’t look so strange. Who was this man, and what did he come to tell you about?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the girl, faintly, her eyes still seeking for him round the room. ‘I don’t know where he came from, or where he has gone to. I think he must have been a ghost.’