On my way up to my own room I met Miss Halcombe on the stairs.  She saw, by the hurry of my movements and the change in my manner, that I had some new purpose in view, and asked what had happened.

I told her the reasons which induced me to think of hastening my departure, exactly as I have told them here.

“No, no,” she said, earnestly and kindly, “leave us like a friend—­ break bread with us once more.  Stay here and dine, stay here and help us to spend our last evening with you as happily, as like our first evenings, as we can.  It is my invitation—­Mrs. Vesey’s invitation——­” she hesitated a little, and then added, “Laura’s invitation as well.”

I promised to remain.  God knows I had no wish to leave even the shadow of a sorrowful impression with any one of them.

My own room was the best place for me till the dinner bell rang.  I waited there till it was time to go downstairs.

I had not spoken to Miss Fairlie—­I had not even seen her—­all that day.  The first meeting with her, when I entered the drawing-room, was a hard trial to her self-control and to mine.  She, too, had done her best to make our last evening renew the golden bygone time—­the time that could never come again.  She had put on the dress which I used to admire more than any other that she possessed—­a dark blue silk, trimmed quaintly and prettily with old-fashioned lace; she came forward to meet me with her former readiness—­she gave me her hand with the frank, innocent good-will of happier days.  The cold fingers that trembled round mine—­the pale cheeks with a bright red spot burning in the midst of them—­ the faint smile that struggled to live on her lips and died away from them while I looked at it, told me at what sacrifice of herself her outward composure was maintained.  My heart could take her no closer to me, or I should have loved her then as I had never loved her yet.

Mr. Gilmore was a great assistance to us.  He was in high good-humour, and he led the conversation with unflagging spirit.  Miss Halcombe seconded him resolutely, and I did all I could to follow her example.  The kind blue eyes, whose slightest changes of expression I had learnt to interpret so well, looked at me appealingly when we first sat down to table.  Help my sister—­the sweet anxious face seemed to say—­help my sister, and you will help me.

We got through the dinner, to all outward appearance at least, happily enough.  When the ladies had risen from table, and Mr. Gilmore and I were left alone in the dining-room, a new interest presented itself to occupy our attention, and to give me an opportunity of quieting myself by a few minutes of needful and welcome silence.  The servant who had been despatched to trace Anne Catherick and Mrs. Clements returned with his report, and was shown into the dining-room immediately.

“Well,” said Mr. Gilmore, “what have you found out?”

“I have found out, sir,” answered the man, “that both the women took tickets at our station here for Carlisle.”