For I was beginning since last night, when I had witnessed her real feeling about her child, to be very sorry for Mrs. Rayner, and to wonder whether I could not draw nearer to her in some way through Haidee, and, through understanding her better, learn to sympathize with her still more. Her misery had seemed so real, and, on the other hand, I had never seen her so utterly broken down and helpless. When once the mask of cold self-control which she usually wore had disappeared, she seemed such a weak thing that it appeared scarcely possible that she could have such a force of obstinacy in her as Mr. Rayner had described her to possess. Mad or sane, I should never be afraid of her again. I only felt utterly sorry for her, and anxious to let her know how much I longed in some way to cheer her dull life. Why was she so reticent to her husband? What if I, being a woman, and having now established, through my care of her child, some claim on her gratitude, could win my way to her heart altogether, persuade her to leave Geldham for a time, and meet Mr. Rayner on his return with the triumphant news that at last his wife was ready to break through her apathy and come back into the world of men again? The thought made my heart beat faster, and I longed to begin my delicate work at once. But I was disappointed. I had all my meals by myself that day, except tea, which I had upstairs with Haidee, for Sarah said Mrs. Rayner was too unwell to leave her room. When we had finished tea, I still sat upstairs by my pupil’s bedside, and my high spirits at the thought of Laurence’s expected visit infected her, and she laughed and chattered to me in a fashion very unusual with her. At last I heard the front-door bell ring, and my heart seemed to stand still with joyful anticipation. But no one came upstairs to fetch me, and, after a few minutes’ breathless waiting, I ran downstairs, unable to bear the suspense any longer. I met Sarah in the hall. “Who was that, Sarah?” asked I, too much excited to think of a decent subterfuge. “Only one of Gregson’s boys asking for Mr. Rayner, miss.” Strange that Gregson’s boy should come to the front door, I thought. I could not go upstairs again. It was half-past six; and at half-past seven I was to be at my “nest,” if Laurence had not come before. I thought that hour would never end. It seemed to me to be getting very dark too. When the hands of the schoolroom clock pointed to twenty minutes past, I put on my shawl, and had opened the window to go out, when Sarah came in. “If you please, miss, would you mind helping me with the store-list? Mrs. Rayner is too ill to do it, and it has to be posted to-morrow morning.” “Oh, Sarah, won’t it do in--in half an hour?” said I breathlessly. “Mrs. Rayner will want me then, miss. It won’t take you more than five minutes.”