'Nonsense, dear Lady Puddicombe--you must permit me,' he urged.
And holding the helpless girl close to him--so close as to preclude all attempted resistance on her part--he bore her steadily upstairs, and past the room where _it_ lay, covered with a sheet, and straight to a new apartment prepared for her, followed by his sister and Clairette.
The fast, horsey baronet's breath mingled with hers, but unconsciously for her, poor girl! Her soft face reclined on his shoulder, and he saw just then, more than ever, how fair and delicate--how very lovely she was; and he began to develop--or scheme out--some very ambitious plans of his own.
Hurdell Hall and the Hurdell estates were rather deeply dipped, and thus 'Old Pudd's money, even if encumbered by such a lovely bride, would be very acceptable when the time came.'
So thought Sir Harry, with the man--but a few hours dead--lying stark and stiff within a few yards of him.
Fortunately for Eveline, 'Nature's innocent opium, fatigue'--with her it was fatigue of mind--procured her some sleep; thus she was supposed to be the better able for what she would be compelled to hear on the morrow, as a telegram had arrived from Lady Aberfeldie--addressed to her--a document that, as Sir Harry said, 'proved a regular floorer, by Jove!'
'She must not be told, as yet, of what yesterday's paper contained--the mysterious disappearance of her brother, to whom she seems most tenderly attached.'
'But how about the telegram from Southsea?' asked Lucretia. 'No doubt it refers to that event. Indeed, we do not know what it contains, good or bad news. It must be given to her; we have no right to conceal or keep it back, and may commit mischief by doing so.'
Sir Harry tugged his straw-coloured moustache with an air of perplexity, and said, while busy with coffee and game-pie,
'By all means, then; if Lady Puddicombe is to know about her brother--which, I fear, will cut her up more than poor old Puddicombe's catastrophe--there is no one who can break the news to her better than you, Lucretia.'
'You are such a precious cool hand, don't you know.'
Miss Hurdell looked as if this was not very flattering, but quitted the luxurious breakfast-table, saying,
'Poor thing, she is not fit to hear any more bad news; she has such a worn-out look already.'