The minister broke his silence with reluctance. “It's sometimes best to have the effect of error unmistakable. Then we are sure it's error.”
Mrs. Munger gave a sob of relief into her handkerchief. “Yes, that's just what I say.”
Lyra bent her face on her arm, and Jack Wilmington put his head out of the window where he stood.
Mr. Peck remained staring at Mrs. Munger, as if doubtful what to do. Then he said: “You seem not to have understood me, ma'am. I should be to blame if I left you in doubt. You have been guilty of forgetting your brother's weakness, and if the consequence has promptly followed in his shame, it is for you to realise it. I wish you a good evening.”
He went out with a dignity that thrilled Annie. Lyra leaned toward her and said, choking with laughter, “He's left Idella asleep upstairs. We haven't any of us got perfect memories, have we?”
“Run after him!” Annie said to Jack Wilmington, in undertone, “and get him into my carriage. I'll get the little girl. Lyra, don't speak of it.”
“Never!” said Mrs. Wilmington, with delight. “I'm solid for Mr. Peck every time.”
XIX.
Annie made up a bed for Idella on a wide, old-fashioned lounge in her room, and put her away in it, swathed in a night-gown which she found among the survivals of her own childish clothing in that old chest of drawers. When she woke in the morning she looked across at the little creature, with a tender sense of possession and protection suffusing her troubled recollections of the night before. Idella stirred, stretched herself with a long sigh, and then sat up and stared round the strange place as if she were still in a dream.