"Mother, someone has destroyed all my pictures.... Is it you?"
Mrs. Marlow looked up in surprise.
Regina stood in the doorway, rigid, white as a statue, her face haggard and drawn. In that moment it resembled so much another countenance that Mrs. Marlow had seen bend over her in a last farewell that the woman stared back at her daughter almost as pallid. Usually, when Regina recalled to her those dear past hours of delight Mrs. Marlow resented it and felt angered by this living witness to dead things, but to-day had been the anniversary, not of Regina's birth, but of her conception, and all day Mrs. Marlow had been struggling in the clinging arms of memories that would not be denied. She had fled to the linen cupboard, and counted the damask cloths again and again, aloud, in vain, to stop them, and now, when like an apparition the very face of her lover came before her vision, the woman's struggling soul fainted and called to it.
She almost stretched out her arms to her, letting the linen fall heavily to the floor in her sudden movement. She would have liked Regina to lay her head down on her breast and sob out her anguish there, as he once had done.
But Regina, never having been accustomed to affection or caresses in her home, naturally did not understand the gesture: she only repeated her question, standing by the door:
"Dear child, no," returned Mrs. Marlow. "Destroy your paintings! I should not think of such a thing.... No one would. Surely it must be some accident. I am so sorry!"
"I don't think it is an accident," Regina answered, retreating. "Thank you, mother, very much."
She withdrew and went on down the flight of stairs. Her whole body was quivering in physical agony, transmitted from the mind; her brain seemed bursting. As she reached the hall she saw the footman come out of her father's study and close the door gently. He saw Regina approaching it, hesitated, and then said respectfully:
"Master said he wished not to be disturbed, that he was going to write his sermon."
Regina pursued her way, and laid her hand on the door.