Perhaps after the draught takes effect she will wake up quieter."
Maxwell himself had not returned, but had sent a note to Yorke from Shoalbrook, which the latter found awaiting him at the Belle, "I must go on to town to see the lady superior," he wrote, "for her reply to my telegram is not clearly expressed. And I will arrange for the funeral being held there; it will thus attract much less attention than if held in the country. I shall be back by the evening at latest, but at any rate it will be desirable to accept your friends' offer to receive Olivia and the children for the night."
Accordingly Yorke arranged with Mrs. Polwheedle that he would come again with the carriage in the afternoon to convey the whole party to "The Beeches." Inquiring for the children, he was told that they had been sent out for a walk, and he met them returning as he drove away — which he did presently, as Mrs. Polwheedle was anxious to return to Olivia. They had been looking at the scene of the fire, and were prattling about it to their nurse as they came along, as if it were an interesting incident with which they had no personal concern. And when Yorke told the elder one that he had brought some pretty clothes for them to wear, the child became more animated and happy-looking than he had ever seen it look before.
On returning to "The Beeches," he found the ladies sitting down to luncheon. Mr. Peevor had gone off to town at last, to keep his business appointment with Mr. Hanckes, leaving many apologies for his enforced absence. And while sitting there in the well-ordered room, the table covered as usual with delicacies of which no one partook, and the ladies talking in the suppressed tones congenial to the eldest Miss Peevor, and in which the example was set by her stepmother, it seemed to Yorke for the moment as if the tragedy that had been enacted so close to them was merely a horrid dream, so difficult was it to associate the tragic with this scene of the comfortable and commonplace. Nor did the conversation turn much on the subject about which all the party were thinking; for the ladies, understanding that there was some mystery about the matter into which it did not become them to pry, with natural good-breeding abstained from more than a general expression of sympathy, and Yorke felt too deeply to find the words come freely.
But when luncheon was ended, and he rose to return, Mrs. Peevor mentioned that the rooms for Mrs. Wood and her party were quite ready, and asked what he would wish done about sending for them; and indeed the preparations had occupied all the morning. Ordinarily the getting ready of guest-chambers at "The Beeches" was a matter to be dealt with by the house-keeper; but on this occasion the sentiment of romance which had inspired Lucy extended itself to Mrs. Peevor and Cathy, and they had all been engaged in arranging the suite of rooms destined for the party, placing books and flowers in the sitting-room set apart for Olivia — and where she need see no one but Mrs. Polwheedle and the servants — to give it an air of use and comfort. A large bedroom was also in course of transformation into a day-nursery; but Yorke suggested that the children, at any rate, would like to be with the children of the house. Altogether, it was evident that, whether from the interest caused by her lonely condition and misfortunes, or from the fact of her being now known to be a friend of Yorke, Olivia and her party would be made warmly welcome, and treated also with the utmost delicacy. Mr. Peevor had left repeated injunctions about various things to be done, and especially that some of the ladies should go down to bring her away; who, Mrs. Peevor asked, did he think had better go? And Yorke, who had intended to return alone, after looking at the ladies all standing round him to receive his commands, proposed that Lucy should go. Lucy's winning face and gentle manner, he thought, might help to win the poor sufferer from the abyss of despair and self-reproach into which she had fallen. He would walk down at once, he said, if she would follow in the carriage. And Lucy, proud of being selected, and yearning to show her sympathy for her lover's friend, ran upstairs with a light step to get ready, while Yorke set off again for the riverside.
CHAPTER LX.
The short winter afternoon was drawing to a close, when Yorke again arrived at the little inn. Mrs. Polwheedle from the window had seen him enter, and waiting at the top of the little staircase, beckoned to him come up, and led the way into an empty bedroom. "She is quieter now than she has been," said the lady, closing the door, after a caution to him to speak low, as the walls were so thin; "but she has not had a wink of sleep, and it looks as if the opium had got into her head, she confuses things so. I get quite frightened sometimes with her talking: she is quiet now, but she will go on sometimes when I am
