"Shall I go back to England?" she asked herself. "Shall I?"
CHAPTER VII
As soon as Lord Nuneham reached the Agency he went up to his wife's room. The sweet old lady was sitting in her dressing-gown with her face to the windows on the west, while the Egyptian woman was combing out her thin, white hair and binding it up for the night. The sun was gone, but the river and the sky were shining like molten gold, and a faint reflected glow was on her soft, pale cheeks.
"Ah, is it you, John?" she said in a nervous voice, and while he was taking a seat she looked at him with her deep, slow, weary eyes as if waiting for an answer to a question she was afraid to ask.
"Helena is going home, Janet," said the old man after a moment.
"Poor girl!"
"There is a steamship on Saturday. I thought it better she should sail by that."
"Poor thing! Poor darling!"
"Her will seems to be quite gone—she agrees to everything."
"Poor Helena!"