“Without us?” added Magdalen.

“Your father and I are going alone,” said Mrs. Vanstone.  “Perhaps, for as long as three weeks—­but not longer.  We are going”—­she hesitated—­“we are going on important family business.  Don’t hold me, Magdalen.  This is a sudden necessity—­I have a great deal to do to-day—­many things to set in order before tomorrow.  There, there, my love, let me go.”

She drew her arm away; hastily kissed her youngest daughter on the forehead; and at once left the room again.  Even Magdalen saw that her mother was not to be coaxed into hearing or answering any more questions.

The morning wore on, and nothing was seen of Mr. Vanstone.  With the reckless curiosity of her age and character, Magdalen, in defiance of Miss Garth’s prohibition and her sister’s remonstrances, determined to go to the study and look for her father there.  When she tried the door, it was locked on the inside.  She said, “It’s only me, papa;” and waited for the answer.  “I’m busy now, my dear,” was the answer.  “Don’t disturb me.”

Mrs. Vanstone was, in another way, equally inaccessible.  She remained in her own room, with the female servants about her, immersed in endless preparations for the approaching departure.  The servants, little used in that family to sudden resolutions and unexpected orders, were awkward and confused in obeying directions.  They ran from room to room unnecessarily, and lost time and patience in jostling each other on the stairs.  If a stranger had entered the house that day, he might have imagined that an unexpected disaster had happened in it, instead of an unexpected necessity for a journey to London.  Nothing proceeded in its ordinary routine.  Magdalen, who was accustomed to pass the morning at the piano, wandered restlessly about the staircases and passages, and in and out of doors when there were glimpses of fine weather.  Norah, whose fondness for reading had passed into a family proverb, took up book after book from table and shelf, and laid them down again, in despair of fixing her attention.  Even Miss Garth felt the all-pervading influence of the household disorganization, and sat alone by the morning-room fire, with her head shaking ominously, and her work laid aside.

“Family affairs?” thought Miss Garth, pondering over Mrs. Vanstone’s vague explanatory words.  “I have lived twelve years at Combe-Raven; and these are the first family affairs which have got between the parents and the children, in all my experience.  What does it mean?  Change?  I suppose I’m getting old.  I don’t like change.”

CHAPTER II.

At ten o’clock the next morning Norah and Magdalen stood alone in the hall at Combe-Raven watching the departure of the carriage which took their father and mother to the London train.