“No mistake! Then she meant it—she meant it!” he muttered, and his face became quite changed. He had walked to the window, but he came back again.
“Thank you, Miss Lambert. I am very much obliged to you,” he said, as though feeling he had been deficient in politeness; but before she could reply he had left the room.
The gong sounded for luncheon directly afterward, but Bessie found the dining-room empty, so she sat down to her work again, and bye and bye Dixon brought her a message that his mistress was waiting. Mrs. Sefton was in the room alone; she motioned Bessie to a seat, and began to carve the chicken before her. No one else made their appearance; but Mrs. Sefton did not apologize for their absence. She scarcely eat anything herself, and made no attempt to sustain the conversation. She looked preoccupied and troubled, and as soon as the meal was over she begged Bessie to amuse herself, as she had some important business to settle, and left the room.
Bessie passed a solitary afternoon; but though her book was interesting her attention often wandered. She was sure something was seriously wrong, and she felt vaguely unhappy on Edna’s account. She could not forget Mr. Sinclair’s face when she had brought him that message. It was as though he had received a blow that he scarcely knew how to bear.
Dixon brought her some tea, and told her that his mistress and Miss Edna were having theirs in the dressing-room. Later on, as she went indoors to prepare for dinner, she encountered Richard; he had just driven up to the door in his dog-cart, and Brand and Gelert were with him.
“Where is Mr. Sinclair?” she ventured to ask, as he smiled at seeing her.
“He has gone,” he replied. “I have just driven him to the station. Do you know where my mother is to be found?”
“I have not seen her since luncheon,” answered Bessie. “I think she is with Edna.”
“Very likely. I will go and see.” And Richard sprung up the staircase three steps at a time. Bessie thought he looked tired and worried, too; and to add to the general oppression, a storm seemed gathering, for the air felt unusually still and sultry.
Edna did not join them at dinner, and the meal was hardly more festive than the luncheon had been. Mrs. Sefton hardly opened her lips, and Richard only made a few general remarks.