"It will never return. I hate the thought of it."
"But it may. And in the meantime haven't we over 40*l.* in the house of good savings?"
"That is nothing to what I must undertake to give Mr. Melton if I break my engagement. But I don't mind that much, Lady Jane—I don't mind anything except going back there, and you must never ask me to go back. Say that you won't! We shall get along somehow——"
"My darling, how can you imagine I would seek to send you back?"
Annie Brunel did not sleep much that night; but by the morning she had recovered all her wonted courage and self-composure. Indeed, it was with a new and singular sense of freedom and cheerfulness that she rose to find the world before her, her own path through it as yet uncertain and full of risks. But she was now mistress of herself; she went to bid Mrs. Christmas good morning with a blithe air, and then, as every Englishwoman does under such circumstances, she sent for the Times.
She had no definite impression about her capabilities for earning her living out of the dramatic profession; but she expected to find all the requisite suggestions in the Times. Here was column after column of proffered employment; surely one little bit might be allotted to her. So she sate down hopefully before the big sheet, and proceeded to put a well-defined cross opposite each advertisement which she imagined offered her a fair chance.
While she was thus engaged, Count Schönstein's brougham was announced; and a few minutes thereafter, the Count, having sent up his card, was permitted to enter the room.
Outwardly his appearance was elaborate, and he wore a single deep crimson rose in the lapel of his tightly-buttoned frock-coat. His eyes, however, were a little anxious. And it was soon apparent that he had for the present relinquished his grand manner.
"I am delighted to see you looking so well," he said, "and I hope Mrs. Christmas is also the better for her holiday——"
"Poor Lady Jane is very ill," said Miss Brunel, "though she will scarcely admit it."