has not let since we left it; it is lying useless there, with its furniture; and, now that the winter is approaching, it will not be likely to let. Suffer me to go back there.”
Lord Oakburn took a few strides up and down without reply. Jane stood, as before, near the table, one hand leaning on it, as if for support.
“It’s the most rubbishing folly in the world, Jane! You’d be as comfortable at home as ever you were, if you’d only bring your mind to it. Do you suppose she has come into the house to make things unpleasant for us? You don’t know her, if you think that. But there!—have it your own way! If you’d like to go back to South Wennock for the winter, you can.”
“Thank you,” answered Jane, with a suppressed sob. “You will allow me sufficient to live upon, papa?”
“I’ll see about that,” said the earl, testily. “Let me know what you want, and I’ll do what I can.”
“I should like to continue in it, papa: to make it my home for life.”
“Stuff, Jane! Before you have been there six months you’ll be right glad to come back to us.”
“You will let me take Lucy, papa?”
“No; I’ll be shot if I do!” returned the earl, raising his voice in choler. “I don’t approve of your decamping off at all, though I give in to it; but I will never permit Lucy to share in such rebellion. You needn’t say more, Jane. If my other daughters leave me, I will keep her.”
Jane sighed as she gave up the thought of Lucy. She moved from the table and held out her hand.
“Good-by, papa. I shall go to-day.”
“Short work, my young lady,” was the answer. “You’ll come to see the folly of your whim speedily, I hope.”
He shook hands. But, in his vexation and annoyance, he did not offer to kiss her, and he did not say “Good-by.” Perhaps he felt vexed at himself as much as at Jane.
She went up to her room. Judith was busy at the dressing-table, and a maid was making the bed. Jane motioned to the latter to quit the chamber.
“I am going back to South Wennock, Judith, to live at the old house on the Rise. I leave for it to-day. Would you like to go, and remain with me?”
Judith looked too surprised to speak. She had a glass toilette-bottle in her hand, dusting it, and she laid it down in wonder. Jane continued.
“If you do not wish to go with me, I suppose you can remain here with Lady Lucy. They will want a maid for her, unless Lady Oakburn’s is to attend on her. That can be ascertained.”
“I will go with you, my lady,” said Judith.
“I shall be glad if you will. But mine will be a very quiet household. Only you and another, at the most.”
“I would prefer to go with you, my lady.”
“Then, Judith, let us make haste with the preparations. We must be away from this house to-day.”
Scarcely had she spoken when Lucy came dancing in, her cheeks and her eyes glowing.
“O Jane! I hope we shall all be happy together!” she exclaimed. “I think we can be. Lady Oakburn is so kind. She means to get Miss Snow a nice situation, and to teach me herself. She says she will not entrust my education to anybody else.”
“I am going away, Lucy,” said Jane, drawing the little gild to her. “I wish—I wish I could have had you with me? But papa will not”
“Going away!” repeated Lucy. “Where?”
“I am going back to South Wennock to live.”
“Oh Jane! And to leave papa! What will he do without you?”
A spasm passed over Jane Chesney’s face. “He has some one else now, Lucy.”
Lucy burst into tears. “And I, Jane! What shall I do? You have never been away from me in all my life!”
A struggle with herself, and then Jane’s tears burst forth. For the first time since the descending of the blow. She laid her face on Lucy’s neck and sobbed aloud.
Only for a few moments did she suffer herself to indulge the grief. “I cannot afford this, child,” she said; “I have neither time nor emotion to spare to-day. You must leave me, or I shall not be ready.”
Lucy went down, her face wet. Lady Oakburn, who seemed to be taking to her new home and its duties quite naturally, was sorting some of Lucy’s music in the drawing-room. She looked just as she had used to look as Miss Lethwait; but she wore this morning a beautiful dress of lama, shot with blue and gold, and a lace cap of guipure. Lucy’s noisy entrance and noisy grief caused her to turn abruptly.
“My dear child, what is the matter?”
“Jane is going away,” was the sobbing answer.
“Going away!” echoed the countess, not understanding.
“Yes, she is going back to live at South