She eagerly grasped the hand of Albinia who bent down to kiss her, and asked how she had been. ‘Oh! my dear, very unwell, very. They should not leave me to myself so long, my dear. I thought you would never come back,’ and she began to cry, and say, ‘no one cared for an old woman.’ Albinia assured her that she was not going away, and restrained her own eager and bewildered feelings to tranquillize her, by prosing on in the lengthy manner which always soothed the poor old lady. It was a great penance, in her anxiety to investigate the mysteries that seemed to swarm in the house, but at last she was able to leave the bedside, though not till she had been twice summoned to tea. Sophy, lividly pale, was presiding with trembling hands; Gilbert, flushed and nervous, waiting on every one, and trying to be lively and at ease, but secret distress was equally traceable in each. She durst only ask after the children, and heard that her little namesake had been as usual as good and sweet as child could be. And Maurice? ‘He’s a famous fellow, went on capitally,’ said Gilbert. ‘Yes, till yesterday,’ hoarsely gasped Sophy, sincerity wrenching out the protest by force. ‘Ah, what has he been doing to the conservatory?’ ‘He let the little marble dog down from the morning-room window with my netting silk; it fell, and made a great hole,’ said Sophy. ‘What, as a form of dawdling at his lessons?’ ‘Yes, but he has not been at all tiresome about them except to-day and yesterday.’ ‘And he has told the exact truth,’ said Mr. Kendal, ‘his gallant confession has earned the little cannon I promised him.’ ‘I believe,’ said Albinia, ‘that it would be greater merit in Maurice to learn forbearance than to speak truth and be praised for it. I have never seen his truth really tried.’ ‘I value truth above all other qualities,’ said Mr. Kendal. ‘So do I,’ said Albinia, ‘and it is my greatest joy in that little fellow; but some time or other it must cost him something, or it will not be tested.’ Mr. Kendal did not like this, and repeated that he must have his cannon. Albinia fancied that she heard something like a groan from Gilbert. When they broke up for the night, she threw her arm round Sophy as they went upstairs, saying, ‘My poor dear, you look half dead. Have things been going very wrong?’ ‘Only these two days,’ said Sophy, ‘and I don’t know that they have either. I am glad you are come!’ ‘What kind of things?’ said Albinia, following her into her room. ‘Don’t ask,’ at first began Sophy, but then, frowning as if she could hardly speak, she added, ‘I mean, I don’t know whether it is my own horrid way, or that there is really an atmosphere of something I don’t make out.’ ‘Didn’t you tell me Lucy was at the Vicarage?’ said Albinia, suddenly.