‘Is it not a kind of cowardice to conceal it?’ Cecilia suggested.

‘It saves her from fretting,’ said the colonel.

’But she is fretting!  If Lord Romfrey would confide in her and trust to her courage, papa, it would be best.’

Colonel Halkett thought that Lord Romfrey was the judge.

Cecilia wished to leave a place where this visible torture of a human soul was proceeding, and to no purpose.  She pointed out to her father, by a variety of signs, that Lady Romfrey either knew or suspected the state of affairs in Bevisham, and repeated her remarks upon Nevil’s illness.  But Colonel Halkett was restrained from departing by the earl’s constant request to him to stay.  Old friendship demanded it of him.  He began to share his daughter’s feelings at the sight of Lady Romfrey.  She was outwardly patient and submissive; by nature she was a strong healthy woman; and she attended to all her husband’s prescriptions for the regulating of her habits, walked with him, lay down for the afternoon’s rest, appeared amused when he laboured to that effect, and did her utmost to subdue the worm devouring her heart but the hours of the delivery of the letter-post were fatal to her.  Her woeful:  ‘No letter for me!’ was piteous.  When that was heard no longer, her silence and famished gaze chilled Cecilia.  At night Rosamund eyed her husband expressionlessly, with her head leaning back in her chair, to the sorrow of the ladies beholding her.  Ultimately the contagion of her settled misery took hold of Cecilia.  Colonel Halkett was induced by his daughter and Mrs. Devereux to endeavour to combat a system that threatened consequences worse than those it was planned to avert.  He by this time was aware of the serious character of the malady which had prostrated Nevil.  Lord Romfrey had directed his own medical man to go down to Bevisham, and Dr. Gannet’s report of Nevil was grave.  The colonel made light of it to his daughter, after the fashion he condemned in Lord Romfrey, to whom however he spoke earnestly of the necessity for partially taking his wife into his confidence to the extent of letting her know that a slight fever was running its course with Nevil.

‘There will be no slight fever in my wife’s blood,’ said the earl.  ’I stand to weather the cape or run to wreck, and it won’t do to be taking in reefs on a lee-shore.  You don’t see what frets her, colonel.  For years she has been bent on Nevil’s marriage.  It’s off:  but if you catch Cecilia by the hand and bring her to us—­I swear she loves the fellow!—­that’s the medicine for my wife.  Say:  will you do it?  Tell Lady Romfrey it shall be done.  We shall stand upright again!’

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible, Romfrey,’ said the colonel.