‘Who is going to the station with you?’ he asked.

‘No one.  I hate partings on the platform.’

She moved away almost as far as the door, then turned again.

‘You will be in town before going back to Oxford?’

Wilfrid hesitated.

‘Oh, never mind,’ she said; and was gone.

Ten minutes later Wilfrid went to the drawing-room.  Mr. and Mrs. Baxendale were talking together; they became silent as he entered.

‘Has Miss Redwing gone?’ he asked.

‘She took leave of you, didn’t she?’ replied the lady.

‘Yes.  But it was So unprepared for, I half thought it might be a joke.’

‘Oh, she’s fond of these surprises,’ Mrs. Baxendale said, in a tone of good-natured allowance.  ’On the whole I sympathise with her; I myself prefer not to linger over such occasions.’

Later in the day Mrs. Baxendale drove out to Banbrigg, this time alone.  On her return, she sought Wilfrid and found him in his room.  There was concern on her face.

‘I have heard something very painful from Mrs. Hood,’ she began.  ’It seems that Emily is in ignorance of her father’s death.’

Wilfrid looked at her in astonishment.

‘I told you,’ Mrs. Baxendale pursued, ’that she had not been altogether well just before it happened, but it now appears that the dreadful incident of her entering the room just when the body was brought in must have taken place when she was delirious.  The poor woman has had no suspicion of that; but it is proved by Emily’s questions, now that she begins to talk.  Of course it makes a new anxiety.  Mrs. Hood has not dared to hint at the truth, but it cannot be concealed for long.’

‘But this is most extraordinary,’ Wilfrid exclaimed, ’What, then, was the origin of her illness?’

’That is the mystery.  Mrs. Hood’s memory seems to be confused, but I got her to allow that the feverish symptoms were declared even the night before the death was known.  I hardly like to hint it, but it really seemed to me as if she were keeping something back.  One moment she said that Emily had been made ill by anxiety at her father’s lateness in coming home that night, and the next she seemed, for some reason, unwilling to admit that it was so.  The poor woman is in a sad, sad state, and no wonder.  She wishes that somebody else might tell Emily the truth; but surely it will come most easily from her.’

Wilfrid was deeply distressed.

‘It is the very worst that still remains,’ he said, ’and we thought the worst was over.  What does the doctor say?  Can she bear it yet?  It is impossible to let her continue in ignorance.’

It was at length decided that Mrs. Baxendale should visit the doctor, and hear his opinion.  She had got into her mind a certain distrust of Mrs. Hood, and even doubted whether Emily ought to be left in her hands during convalescence; there was clearly no want of devotion on the mother’s part, but it appeared to Mrs. Baxendale that the poor woman had been overtaxed, and was herself on the point of illness, perhaps of mental failure.  From going well things had suddenly taken an anxious turn.