The Story Continued by Marian Halcombe

“Thank you, miss⁠—thank you kindly. It gives one courage to hear your voice again. Please to offer my duty to my lady, and say I left all the things as tidy as I could in the time. Oh, dear! dear! who will dress her for dinner today? It really breaks my heart, miss, to think of it.” When I got back to the house I had only a quarter of an hour to spare to put myself in order for dinner, and to say two words to Laura before I went downstairs. “The letters are in Fanny’s hands,” I whispered to her at the door. “Do you mean to join us at dinner?” “Oh, no, no⁠—not for the world.” “Has anything happened? Has anyone disturbed you?” “Yes⁠—just now⁠—Sir Percival⁠—” “Did he come in?” “No, he frightened me by a thump on the door outside. I said, ‘Who’s there?’ ‘You know,’ he answered. ‘Will you alter your mind, and tell me the rest? You shall! Sooner or later I’ll wring it out of you. You know where Anne Catherick is at this moment.’ ‘Indeed, indeed,’ I said, ‘I don’t.’ ‘You do!’ he called back. ‘I’ll crush your obstinacy⁠—mind that!⁠—I’ll wring it out of you!’ He went away with those words⁠—went away, Marian, hardly five minutes ago.” He had not found Anne! We were safe for that night⁠—he had not found her yet. “You are going downstairs, Marian? Come up again in the evening.”