Mrs. Sewell could not deny this, but she was not satisfied. She was silent a moment before she asked, “What do you suppose that wretched creature will do now?”
“I think very likely he will come to me,” answered Sewell.
“I dare say.” The bell rang. “And I suppose that's he now!”
They listened and heard Miss Vane's voice at the door, asking for them.
Mrs. Sewell ran down the stairs and kissed her. “Oh, I'm so glad you came. Isn't it wonderful? I've just come from them, and she's taking the whole care of him, as if he had always been the sick one, and she strong and well.”
“What do you mean, Lucy? He isn't ill!”
“Who isn't?”
“What are you talking about?”
“About Mr. Evans—”
“Oh!” said Miss Vane, with cold toleration. She arrived at the study door and gave Sewell her hand. “I scarcely knew him, you know; I only met him casually here. I've come to see,” she added nervously, “if you know where Lemuel is, Mr. Sewell. Have you seen anything of him since the fire? How nobly he behaved! But I never saw anything he wasn't equal to!”