A considerable time elapsed, but no visitors appeared; and then Mrs. Plowden, from wondering what Emily would say, at last came to wonder where Emily could be, or if her eyes had deceived her, and Lady William had not crossed the lawn at all. ‘I declare,’ she said, ‘I shall feel quite unhappy if your aunt does not appear: for I saw her as plainly as I see you. I saw her black gown, and the feather in her hat, which really ought to be renewed if she will go on wearing black for ever--and that umbrella of hers with the long handle.’ ‘But, mamma dear,’ said Emmy, ‘you must have known at once whether it was Aunt Emily or not, without thinking what she had on.’ ‘Well, so I should have supposed,’ said Mrs. Plowden, bewildered, ‘but then where is she, and what has become of her? She should have been here ten minutes ago. Oh, who is that? Mab! Why, child, where have you come from? And where is your mother? I am sure I saw her cross the lawn ten minutes ago or more.’ ‘And we think it must have been her wraith, Mab.’ ‘Mother has gone to talk to Uncle James,’ said Mab. ‘She says it’s about business, but I think it is some worry, she looks so serious. So I came on after to wait for her. Oh, are you cutting out, Florry? Shall I help you, or do you want any help?’ ‘Some worry?’ said Mrs. Plowden, with a sorrowful brow. ‘I hope it is not anything new about your uncle Reginald, girls.’ Reginald was the brother to whom Lady William had given her money, and who had never come back. ‘Hadn’t we better wait till we hear what it is, mamma? I thought Uncle Reginald had not been heard of for years.’ ‘That is quite true, and it was my opinion we should never hear from him any more; but what worry can your aunt Emily have if it is not about him? For I am sure otherwise she is a happy woman, and never has the shadow of a trouble. Was it after getting a foreign letter that she grew so serious, Mab?’ ‘She has had no letter at all,’ said Mab, ‘and she did not say it was anything but business. The worry was only my own fancy; and I daresay I was wrong.’ ‘What else could it be?’ said Mrs. Plowden. ‘She may have heard he is coming home. And I am sure, if he is coming home, I don’t know what I shall do. He shall not come here. I could not have him in this house. Our own burdens we must bear; but Reginald Plowden--oh, Reginald Plowden is too much! If he comes here I shall run away.’ ‘Dear mamma, don’t you think we had better wait a little? Aunt Emily is sure to come here when she leaves papa, and then you will know.’ ‘Oh, it is all very well to tell me to wait--when Reginald Plowden would just put the crown upon everything,’ the poor lady said. XXIII