But the situation at Bessington distressed her.
"Why, my dear, they are just like a couple of sick paroquets," she said
to her husband. "Mr. Brown don't look long for this world, and Theodora
is a shadow! What in the Lord's name has been happening to them?"
But Dominic could not enlighten her. Before they left she determined to
ascertain for herself.
The last evening she said to Theodora, who was bidding her good-night in
her room: "I had a letter from your friend Lord Bracondale last week, from Alaska.
He asks for news of you. Did you see him after he came from Paris? He
was only a short while in England, I understand."
"Yes, we saw him once or twice," said Theodora, "and we made the
acquaintance of his sister."
"He always seemed to be very fond of her. Is she a nice sort of woman?"
"Very nice."
"I hear the mother is clean crazy with him for going off again and not
marrying that heiress they are so set upon. But why should he? He don't
want the money."
"No," said Theodora.
"Was he at Beechleigh when you were there?"
"Yes."
"And Miss Winmarleigh, too?"
"Yes, she was there."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Fitzgerald. "A great lump of a woman, isn't she?"
"She is rather large."
This was hopeless--a conversation of this sort--Jane Fitzgerald decided.
It told her nothing.
Theodora's face had become so schooled it did not, even to her
step-mother's sharp eyes, betray any emotion.
"I am glad if the folly is over," she thought to herself. "But I
shouldn't wonder if it Wasn't something to do with it still, after all.
If it is not that, what can it be?" Then she said aloud: "He is going
through America, and we shall meet him when we get back in November,
most likely. I shall persuade him to come down to Florida with us, if I
can. He seems to be aimlessly wandering round, I suppose, shooting
things; but Florida is the loveliest place in the world, and I wish you
and Josiah would come, too, my dear."
"That would be beautiful," said Theodora, "but Josiah is not fit for a
long journey. We shall go to the Riviera, most probably, when the
weather gets cold."
"Have you no message for him then, Theodora, when I see him?"
And now there was some sign. Theodora clasped her hands together, and
she said in a constrained voice: "Yes. Tell him I hope he is well--and I am well--just that," and she
walked ever to the dressing-table and picked up a brush, and put it down
again nervously.