“I don’t even know yet whether they will keep to their engagements; and we are all at sixes and sevens, and the company will begin to arrive in an hour or two!” cried poor Mr. Tottenham. Edgar’s anxieties were so much more engrossing and terrible that to have a share in these small ones did him good; and he was so indifferent that he calmed everybody, brought the unruly performers back to their senses, and thrust all the arrangements on by the sheer carelessness he felt as to whether they were ready or not. “Who cares about your play?” he said to Watson, who came to pour out his grievances. “Do you think the Duchess of Middlemarch is so anxious to hear you? They will enjoy themselves a great deal better chatting to each other.” This brought Mr. Watson and his troupe to their senses, as all Mr. Tottenham’s agitated remonstrances had not brought them. Edgar did not care to be in the way of the fine people when they arrived. He got a kind word from Lady Mary, who whispered to him, “How ill you are looking! You must tell us what it is, and let us help you;” for this kind woman found it hard to realise that there were things in which the support of herself and her husband would be but little efficacious; and he had approached Lady Augusta, as has been recorded, with some wistful, hopeless intention of recommending Clare to her, in case of anything that might happen. But Lady Augusta had grown so pale at the sight of him, and had thrown so many uneasy glances round her, that Edgar withdrew, with his heart somewhat heavy, feeling his burden rather more than he could conveniently bear. He had gone and hid himself in the library, trying to read, and hearing far off the din of applause--the distant sound of voices. The noise of the visitors’ feet approaching had driven him from that refuge, when Mr. Tottenham, in high triumph, led his guests through his huge establishment. Edgar, dislodged, and not caring to put himself in the way of further discouragement, chose this moment to give his message to Phil, and strayed away from sound and light into the retired passages, when that happened to him in his time of extremity which it is now my business to record. CHAPTER XII. A New Event. “Have you--forgotten me--then?” “Forgotten you!” cried Edgar.