that secrecy seems impossible. Mrs. Polwheedle will be a comfort if she comes, bringing an old face at any rate; but she at the most could take her into London lodgings, and that would not be a fit place for her. Perfect quiet is what is wanted, and that, I understand, she might get at your friends' house. I really think that is the best thing we can do for her just at present. But we must wait and see whether Mrs. Polwheedle comes."
That lady arrived about mid-day. Yorke had done no more than justice to her good-nature in sending her this summons. She had come down by the first train after receiving it, taking a fly from the Shoalbrook station. It was not perhaps very easy to convey to her a clear idea of what had happened, she had so much to say herself; but she was unaffectedly glad to be of use; and as she mounted the narrow staircase after exchanging a few words with the landlady, a strong feeling of sympathy with Olivia was mingled with a sense of self-importance at having been called on to help.
When Maxwell rejoined Yorke, after showing Mrs. Polwheedle up-stairs, he had thought of a temporary home for Olivia. A cousin of his, a maiden lady, was head of a small sisterhood in the neighbourhood of London, where perhaps Olivia and her children might be received for a time. There she would be free from intrusion, and be sure of quiet and good nursing if needed. And, indeed, she was likely to want it, continued the doctor; this brain-excitement was very distressing and serious. He would go to Shoalbrook at once and telegraph to his cousin from there, and also procure a sedative, and if possible see the coroner, and arrange also for the unfortunate husband's funeral, returning to the inn as quickly as possible. But it might not be practicable to secure her reception at the sisterhood that day; Yorke had better see his friends and prepare for Olivia's moving to "The Beeches" if necessary. It was all-important that she should have a change of scene of some sort. So while the one returned in Mrs. Polwheedle's fly to Shoalbrook, the other walked up to "The Beeches."
Yorke's wish that Olivia should be left in quiet for a time had been respected; but he found a strong feeling of sympathy among all the members of the family for the unfortunate sufferers by the fire, and a keen desire to be of use. Mr. Peevor especially seemed delighted at the prospect of receiving the whole party, still more when he heard that it was to include Mrs. Polwheedle. Any friends of Colonel Yorke's, he said, were friends of his; he should have been very pleased to see them, and would have done his best to make them comfortable at any time, still more, of course, would he wish to do so under present circumstances. Mr. Peevor, indeed, who had deferred his journey to town till Yorke's return, and had already telegraphed to put off various guests invited to a dinner-party that evening, was in a state of mild excitement; a fire had happened in the neighbourhood, and there was no knowing how soon such a thing might happen again; then, in addition to the bad accident which had occurred, the sufferers by the fire had lost everything without being insured. "I never buy a picture, or a bit of china, or anything else," said Mr. Peevor, "without increasing my assurances; I should not be able to sleep a wink if I did not do this; it is anxious work enough as it is, living in such a household as this, and with so much to think about." Mr. Peevor was for sending down a couple of carriages at once to bring up the party, but Yorke explained that plans could not be finally arranged till he heard again from his friend Dr. Maxwell; and he returned alone in the dogcart laden with a parcel of clothing belonging to Mrs. Peevor, who was of about the same height as Olivia, and another of the children's things for the little ones. Lucy took this parcel from the hands of the maids who made it up, and brought it down-stairs to him. There was a change in her manner since he had seen her last, brought about by the partial revelation of the morning. She was still somewhat shy and timid; but the sense of security about her lover, which had succeeded the previous uncertainty, gave her a confidence in his presence which she had not felt till now. They had never been so much like lovers before; and Yorke driving down the hill to the river, thought with a sense almost of shame on certain little passages which passed between them as he took the parcel from her hands, a few broken words, a mere exchange of glances, but surely unfitting such a time.
As he drove up to the inn, Mrs. Polwheedle came down-stairs to meet him. Olivia had taken the sedative draught which Maxwell had sent from Shoalbrook, and was lying down: "But it does not seem to do her any good. She has begun talking now, mixing up all sorts of things in such a wild way, rolling her eyes about in a dreadful manner. I am trying to keep her quiet, but she is dreadfully excited.
