Death at the last was sudden, and Mrs. St. John was alone when it came. Her mother, Mrs. Darling, had gone abroad, and beyond a very brief note, just telling her of the event, Mrs. Darling received no direct news from her. She wrote letter after letter, for it was not convenient to return home immediately; but all the replies--when she received any--came from Prance. And Prance, who was in a degree in the confidence of Mrs. Darling, ventured to intimate that her mistress was "sulking," and much annoyed by the will. The last item of intelligence stirred all the curiosity possessed by Mrs. Darling. It also troubled her. She was aware that George St. John had little actual property to bequeath to his wife--and George St. John's own private opinion had been that Mrs. Darling's opposition to his marriage with her daughter arose from that sole fact--but there were ways and means of remedying this; and now Mrs. Darling supposed they had not been taken. As soon as she was able, after June came in, she made arrangements for returning to England, and hastened down to Alnwick Hall. But for the escutcheon on the outer walls, and the badge of widowhood worn by her daughter, Mrs. Darling might have thought things were as they had been--that no change had occurred. The windows were open, the sun was shining, the park was green and flourishing: even Charlotte was not changed. And Mrs. Darling scanned her with a critical eye. "My dear, you are looking better than I hoped for." "I am pretty well, mamma. I wish Prance would come in with Georgy!" she continued fretfully. "I want you to see him, he is so grown!" "Dear little fellow! I was so sorry that I could not come over at the time, Charlotte, but----" "It did not matter," interrupted Mrs. St. John, speaking quickly. "Indeed I think I was best alone. You know, mamma"--turning her deep eyes full upon her mother--"I was always given to being independent. How is Rose?" "Oh, dear!" returned Mrs. Darling, with a groan, as if recalled to some very annoying subject. "Don't talk of Rose." A half smile crossed the young widow's lips. "Has she been doing anything very dreadful?" "No: but she is so rebellious." "Rebellious!" "At being kept at school. Mary Anne and Margaret fully expected she would break bounds and conceal herself on board the boat. We had sighted Folkestone before they felt any sort of assurance that she was not there." "Did Mary Anne and Margaret come over with you?" "Yes; I left them in London. Frank is expected." "I think Frank might come down to see me!" said Mrs. St. John, haughtily. "My dear, I am sure he will. But he cannot always get leave when he would." There was a pause. Charlotte, cool, haughty, reserved, as she had ever been, even to her mother, turned to the window again, looking out for her little son. Mrs. Darling was burning to ask various particulars of things she wanted to know, but did not just now see her opportunity. She rose from her chair.