self, and sat languidly wondering what she should do next, her habitual industry in small things, even in the days of her sadness, prompting her to begin some kind of occupation, which she dragged through slowly or paused in from lack of interest. She looked ill, but had recovered her usual quietude of manner, and Lydgate had feared to disturb her by any questions. He had told her of Dorothea's letter containing the cheque, and afterwards he had said, "Ladislaw is come, Rosy; he sat with me last night; I daresay he will be here again to-day. I thought he looked rather battered and depressed." And Rosamond had made no reply.
Now, when he came up, he said to her very gently, "Rosy, dear, Mrs Casaubon is come to see you again; you would like to see her, would you not?" That she coloured and gave rather a startled movement did not surprise him after the agitation produced by the interview yesterday - a beneficent agitation, he thought, since it seemed to have made her turn to him again.
Rosamond dared not say no. She dared not with a tone of her voice touch the facts of yesterday. Why had Mrs Casaubon come again? The answer was a blank which Rosamond could only fill up with dread, for Will Ladislaw's lacerating words had made every thought of Dorothea a fresh smart to