Making his dinner of one dish, in spite of the remonstrances of Sir Karl and the attentions of Mr. Giles and his fellows, the doctor drank a cup of coffee, and rose to leave again. His sister, begging Lady Andinnian to excuse her, put on her hat and shawl, and left with him.
"Are you going over to the Maze, William?" she asked, when they got out.
"Then I will go with you. That's why I came away. The poor young thing is alone, save for her servants, and I think it only a charity that some one should be with her."
The surgeon gave a grin of satisfaction in the darkness of the night. "Take care, Diana," said he, with assumed gravity. "You know the question the holy ones at St. Jerome's are raising--whether that lovely lady is any better than she should be."
"Bother to St. Jerome's," independently returned Miss Diana.
"If the holy ones, as you call them, would expend a little more time in cultivating St. Paul's enjoined charity, and a little less in praying with those two parsons of theirs, Heaven might be better served. Let the lady be what she will, she is to be pitied in her distress, and I am going to her. Brother William!"
"I cannot think what is the matter with Lady Andinnian. She looks just like one that's pining away."
The evening went on at the Court. Miss Blake came back, bringing the news that the Reverend Mr. Cattacomb's throat was easier, which was of course a priceless consolation. At ten o'clock Mr. and Mrs. Sumnor took their departure, Sir Karl walking with them as far as the lodge. Lost in thought, he had gone out without his hat: in returning for it he saw his wife at one of the flower beds.
"Lucy! Is it you, out in the damp? What do you want?"
"I am getting one of the late roses for Margaret," was the answer. "She likes to have a flower to cheer her when she lies awake at night. She says it makes her think of heaven."
"I will get it for you," said Karl. And he chose the best he could in the starlight, and cut it.
"Lucy, I am going over the way," he resumed in a low tone, as they turned to the steps, "and I cannot tell when I shall be back. Hewitt will sit up for me."
Of all audacious avowals, this sounded about the coolest to its poor young listener. Her quickened breath seemed to chafe her; her heart beat as though it would burst its bounds.