she turned on the contents of the heavy silver dishes successively presented to her notice. When, at the conclusion of this ceremony, the servants had withdrawn, she continued for a moment to stir her tea in silence, While her glance travelled from Mr. Tredegar, sunk in his morning mail, to Mr. Langhope, who leaned back resignedly in his chair, trying to solace himself with Hanaford Banner, till midday should bring him a sight of the metropolitan press.
“I suppose you know,” she said suddenly, “that Bessy has telegraphed for Cicely, and made her arrangements to stay here another week.”
Mr. Langhope’s stick slipped to the floor with the sudden displacement of his whole lounging person, and Mr. Tredegar, removing his tortoise—shell reading-glasses, put them hastily into their case, as though to declare for instant departure.
“My dear Maria—” Mr. Langhope gasped, while she rose and restored his stick.
“She considers it, then, her duty to wait and see Truscomb?” the lawyer asked; and Mrs. Ansell, regaining her seat, murmured discreetly: “She puts it so—yes.”
“My dear Maria—” Mr. Langhope repeated helplessly, tossing aside his paper and drawing his chair up to the table.
“But it would be perfectly easy to return: it is quite
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