He had demanded a reply, and he had a right at least to that. The
letter had been with her for four entire days before she had ventured
to speak to her aunt on the subject.
On the first of March Miss Stanbury came out of her bed-room for the
first time. Dorothy, on the previous day, had decided on postponing her
communication for this occasion; but, when she found herself sitting in
the little sitting-room up stairs close at her aunt's elbow, and
perceived the signs of weakness which the new move had made
conspicuous, and heard the invalid declare that the little journey had
been almost too much for her, her heart misgave her. She ought to have
told her tale while her aunt was still in bed. But presently there came
a question, which put her into such a flutter that she was for the time
devoid of all resolution. 'Has Brooke written?' said Miss Stanbury.
'Yes aunt; he has written.'
'And what did he say?' Dorothy was struck quite dumb. 'Is there
anything wrong?' And now, as Miss Stanbury asked the question, she
seemed herself to have forgotten that she had two minutes before
declared herself to be almost too feeble to speak.
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