Some of these dismal memories of Meran descended like birds of night upon Delia, as she stood with her arms above her head, in her long night-gown, looking intently but quite unconsciously into the depths of an old rosewood cheval glass. She felt that sultry night about her once more, when, after signing his will, her father opened his eyes upon her, coming back with an effort from the bound of death, and had said quite clearly though faintly in the silence-- "Give up that woman, Delia!--promise me to give her up." And Delia had cried bitterly, on her knees beside him--without a word--caressing his hand. And the cold fingers had been feebly withdrawn from hers as the eyes closed. "Oh papa--papa!" The low murmur came from her, as she pressed her hands upon her eyes. If the Christian guesses were but true, and in some quiet Elysian state he might now understand, and cease to be angry with her! Was there ever a great cause won without setting kin against kin? "A man's foes shall be they of his own household." "It wasn't my fault--it wasn't my fault!" No!--and moreover it was her duty not to waste her strength in vain emotion and regret. Her task was _doing_, not dreaming. She turned away, banished her thoughts and set steadily about the task of dressing. * * * * * "Please Miss Blanchflower, there are two or three people waiting to see you in the servants' hall." So said the tall and gentle-voiced housekeeper, Mrs. Bird, whose emotions had been, in Miss Marvell's view, so unnecessarily exercised on the evening of Delia's home-coming. Being a sensitive person, Mrs. Bird had already learnt her lesson, and her manner had now become as mildly distant as could be desired, especially in the case of Miss Blanchflower's lady companion. "People? What people?" asked Delia, looking round with a furrowed brow. She and Gertrude were sitting together on the sofa when the housekeeper entered, eagerly reading a large batch of letters which the London post had just brought, and discussing their contents in subdued tones. "It's the cottages, Miss. Her Ladyship used always to decide who should have those as were vacant about this time of year, and two or three of these persons have been up several times to know when you'd be home." "But I don't know anything about it"--said Delia, rising reluctantly. "Why doesn't the agent--why doesn't Mr. Frost do it?" "I suppose--they thought--you'd perhaps speak a word to Mr. Frost, Miss," suggested Mrs. Bird. "But I can send them away of course, if you wish." "Oh no, I'll come"--said Delia. "But it's rather tiresome--just as"--she looked at Gertrude. "Don't be long," said Miss Marvell, sharply, "I'll wait for you here." And she plunged back into the letters, her delicate face all alive, her eyes sparkling. Delia departed--evidently on a distasteful errand. But twenty minutes later, she returned flushed and animated.