"Pray, sir," said she, on seeing him, "what rudeness is this? Did I desire your attendance?"
"No, ma'am," he answered, cringing and trembling. "I beg pardon, ma'am; but I thought you might like to know that Miss Mildred has just met Mr. Trevethlan."
"Well, sir!" Esther said, preserving a composure which bewildered the informant.
"It may be nothing, ma'am, of course," Sinson continued. "But clasping arms, and hands pressed, and lips meeting...."
"Be silent, sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel, "and leave the room. I want no tales about Mr. Trevethlan."
In increased astonishment, Michael obeyed. Mildred entered the apartment not very long after.
"My dear Mildred," her mother said, "you should not stay out so late. These February evenings are damp and unhealthy; and besides, dear, you take too long walks. I should be glad if you would confine yourself to the garden. Take a carriage, my love, if you wish for a longer excursion."
Mildred understood her mother well, and knew that this was a command. But amid the rapturous, though confused sensations, with which her heart was thrilling, she did not even notice the coincidence of the injunction with the scene through which she had passed not an hour before. She thought she should be happy at last. She had found a stay to uphold her in the times which she feared were at hand. She had pledged her word, plighted her troth. There was a home ready for her, if her own were made desolate—a haven to receive her, if the storm rose higher than she could bear.