‘I knew you were come,’ she said, when Charlotte stooped and kissed her. ‘I heard you. I have done nothing this morning, and feel dreadfully unsettled. Is all well?’
The question was put without thought, but its aptness seemed almost to imply an intuitive knowledge of their previous conversation. ‘Yes,’ said Charlotte tardily.
‘Well, now, Clementine shall dress you, and I can do with Milly,’ continued Paula. ‘Come along. Well, aunt—what’s the matter?—and you, Charlotte? You look harassed.’
‘I have not slept well,’ said Charlotte.
‘And have not you slept well either, aunt? You said nothing about it at breakfast.’
‘O, it is nothing,’ said Mrs. Goodman quickly. ‘I have been disturbed by learning of somebody’s villainy. I am going to tell you all some time to-day, but it is not important enough to disturb you with now.’
‘No mystery!’ argued Paula. ‘Come! it is not fair.’
‘I don’t think it is quite fair,’ said Miss De Stancy, looking from one to the other in some distress. ‘Mrs. Goodman—I must tell her! Paula, Mr. Som—’
‘He’s dead!’ cried Paula, sinking into a chair and turning as pale as marble. ‘Is he dead?—tell me!’ she whispered.
‘No, no—he’s not dead—he is very well, and gone to Normandy for a holiday!’