"Really, really," she exclaimed, "I was just writing you a letter, which
I intended to send after you, so that you would get it when you arrived
in London; and in it I was going to tell you all about the breaking up
of the House of Martha, of which I first heard half an hour after you
left me. I was glad you had not known of it before you started, for I
thought it would be so much better for all the changes to be made while
you were away, and for Sylvia to be in her mother's house, where she
could get rid of her nunnish habits, and have some proper clothes made
up. Of course I knew you would come back soon, but I thought your own
mind would be in much better order for a little absence."
"My dear grandmother," I cried, "in mind and body I am in perfect order,
and it is presence, not absence, which made me so."
"Somehow or other," said she, smiling, "the fates seem to help you to
have your own way, and I am sure I am delighted that you will stay at
home. And what has become of Mr. Walkirk?"
"Upon my word!" I exclaimed--"I do not know."
Towards evening Walkirk returned, looking tired and out of spirits. I
truly regretted the carelessness and neglect with which I had treated
him, and explained and apologized to the best of my ability.
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