"She ought to be kept very quiet; her nerves are all wrong. Mind you make her stay in bed as long as you can. Don't let her think of travelling till next week at the soonest." She also saw her come out of the sick-room with the letter just written by Virginia to Gaunt in her hand. She carried it into her own room, and something in the way she looked at it produced in Grover an overpowering impression that she did not mean to forward it. With a determination to ascertain, the woman knocked at the door some minutes later, and was sure she heard the rustle of paper and the hasty closing of a drawer before Mrs. Mynors told her to come in. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but should I take Mrs. Gaunt's letter to post? It's almost time." "Thanks, I have just sent it off." This made the servant certain that her suspicion was correct. She went slowly into Virginia's room, more and more perplexed as to what she ought to do, and wondering what were her mistress's own feelings in the matter. Since the Bignor episode, she had been so shaken in her faith in Virginia that she was half ready to believe that it was a case of like mother, like daughter, and that the dainty butterfly would never return to gloomy Omberleigh. The idea filled her with resentment. "His fault," she muttered to herself. "Such a place, enough to give you a fit of the blues, dirty and dull and drab; he ought to have had it all done up for her--make her think that he wanted to please her! He don't know enough to go indoors when it rains, not where a woman's concerned, that's very certain. But, oh, gracious goodness, what will happen to him if she turns out a light one? It's my belief he'd never stand it. He'd go mad or cut his throat." Gloomily she ran ribbons into under-linen, made the bed, and went about her usual sick-room duties. All the time she was wondering whether she could not "say something." The difficulty lay in thinking what to say. Virginia was very quiet--unusually so. When Grover had gone out, she locked the door, put on a dressing-gown, and sat up by the fire. She found herself stronger than she had thought. Her fever having passed, she was all right. She was certain that there was no reason why she should not travel on Wednesday; but she determined to say nothing about it to her mother. When next Mrs. Mynors came in to see her, she was lying with eyes half closed, and whispered that she felt very weak, and was not equal to talking. This was satisfactory, and the visitor crept away. Next morning the girl, with the elasticity of youth, awoke feeling very much better. Grover could not but remark it. Yet, when her mother came in, she was languid and monosyllabic.