One of the servants said, after waiting a few moments: ‘We shan’t do that, sir.’
‘Oh—Why won’t you?’
‘We liked her too well, with all her faults.’
‘Ah—did you,’ said he; and he sighed. He perceived that the younger maids were secretly on Avice’s side.
‘How does her mother bear it?’ Jocelyn asked. ‘Is she awake?’
Mrs. Pierston had hardly slept, and, having learnt the tidings inadvertently, became so distracted and incoherent as to be like a person in a delirium; till, a few moments before he arrived, all her excitement ceased, and she lay in a weak, quiet silence.
‘Let me go up,’ Pierston said. ‘And send for the doctor.’
Passing Avice’s chamber he perceived that the little bed had not been slept on. At the door of the spare room he looked in. In one corner stood a walking-stick—his own.
‘Where did that come from?’
‘We found it there, sir.’