I left him then, for I thought he would desire it, and went up to _Milly_. She had cast off her hood and tippet, and lay on her bed, her face turned to the wall. "Dost lack aught, _Milly_?" said I. "Nay," was all she said. "Shall I bide with thee?" "Nay." Nor one word more might I get out of her. So I left her likewise, and came down to the little parlour, where I sat me to my sewing. It was about an hour after that I heard Aunt _Joyce's_ firm tread on the gravel. She came into the parlour, and looked around as though to see who were there. Then she saith-- "None but thee, _Edith_? Where are the rest?" There was a break in her voice, such as folk have when they have been sore troubled. "I have been alone this hour, _Aunt_. _Milly_ is in our chamber, and _Father_ I left in his closet. Whither _Mother_ and _Nell_ be I know not." "Hast told him?" "Ay, and he said only himself must tell _Mother_." "I knew he would. God help her!" "You think she shall take it very hard, _Aunt_?" "_Edith_," saith Aunt _Joyce_ softly, "there is more to take hard than thou wist. And we know not well yet all the ill he may have wrought to _Milisent_." Then away went she, and I heard her to rap on the door of _Father's_ closet. For me, I sat and sewed a while longer: and yet none coming, I went up to our chamber, partly that I should wash mine hands, and partly to see what was come of _Milly_. She still lay on the bed, but her face turned somewhat more toward me, and by her shut eyes and even breathing I could guess that she slept. I sat me down in the window to wait, when mine hands were washen: for I thought some should come after a while, and may-be should not count it right that I left _Milisent_ all alone. I guess it were a good half-hour I there sat, and _Milly_ slept on. At the last come _Mother_, her eyes very red as though she had wept much. "Doth she sleep, _Edith_?" she whispered. I said, "Ay, _Mother_: she hath slept this half-hour or more." "Poor child!" she saith. "If only I could have wist sooner! How much I might have saved her! O poor child!" The water welled up in her eyes again, and she went away, something in haste. I had thought _Mother_ should be angered, and I was something astonied to see how soft she were toward _Milly_. A while after, Aunt _Joyce_ come in: but _Milly_ slept on. "I am fain to see that," saith she, nodding her head toward the bed. "A good sign. Yet I would I knew exactly how she hath taken it." "I am afeared she may be angered, Aunt _Joyce_, to be thus served of one she trusted." "I hope so much. 'Twill be the best thing she can be. The question is what she loved--whether himself or his flattering of herself. She'll soon get over the last, for it shall be nought worser with her than hurt vanity." "Not the first, _Aunt_?"