“Mine was merely a violent headache, Laura, accompanied by faintness. Ah!” she exclaimed, in real alarm, after vainly searching for it in her bag. “What did I do with my handkerchief? I hope I haven't left it behind!”
“No; it's here, ma'am,” replied Laura, giving it her. “You had laid it on the seat.”
“Oh! thank you, Laura,” cried Mrs. Oalverley, looking inexpressibly relieved.
And squeezing the handkerchief to make sure the phial was safe inside it, she put it into her bag.
“I wonder why she was so agitated just now?” thought Laura.
All signs of exultation had now vanished from Mrs. Calverley's countenance, and she looked thoughtful and uneasy during the rest of the drive, and scarcely made a remark to Laura, who could not account for the sudden and extraordinary change in her mood.
On arriving at Ouselcroft, she went upstairs almost immediately to her own room, but, contrary to custom, and greatly to the surprise of the lady's-maid, did not take her with her.
This time, on going into her dressing-room, she did not neglect to lock both doors.
Feeling now safe from intrusion, she sat down to reflect. But there was such a turmoil in her breast, such confusion in her brain, that she found it impossible to do so calmly.
The fancied loss of her handkerchief, with the phial inside it, which, if it had really occurred, must have inevitably led to the discovery of the terrible crime she had committed, had completely unnerved her.