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"You think so, sir?" "The Sisters are good women," said Mr. Rumbold. "They love the children and train them well. I have twice sent orphans from this village to their care, and in each case I believe that there could not have been a happier result." "You'll be charmed if you go over the house at Winstead, Mr. Lepel," said Mrs. Rumbold coaxingly. "Do go over and see yourself what it is like.
Vernon swore roundly. "I must look into this," he said. "But what shall I do with Adelais?" "Will you not trust her to me?" Roger asked. "If so, cousin, I will very gladly be her escort to Winstead. Let the girl dance her fill while she may, Hugh. She will have little heart for dancing after a month or so of Falmouth's company."
Elizabeth's Orphanage at Winstead, where she was introduced to the black-robed, white-capped Sisters and a crowd of blue-cloaked children like herself as Jane Wood, orphan, from the village of Beechfield, in Hants. However, Mrs. Rumbold told the whole of Cynthia's story to the Sister in charge of the Orphanage, a sweet-faced motherly woman, who looked as if children were dear to her.
"I am afraid that I am not so likely to recover as you think. And, if not, nothing on earth will induce me to marry any man. Remember that, Hubert if I am not better, I will not marry you. I intend to join the sisters at East Winstead." "It is that meddling parson who is at the bottom of this, I'll swear!" said Hubert angrily, quitting her side and pacing about the room.
On the Monday morning matters were so serious that Mangan telegraphed down to Winstead; but the old doctor and his wife and Francie were already on their way to town. When they arrived in Piccadilly, and went into the sick-room, Lionel did not know them; most likely he merely confused them with the crowding phantoms of his brain.
Now, if Maurice Mangan had come to this house to see how Lionel was feted and caressed by "the great" in order that he might carry the tale down to Winstead to please the old folk and Miss Francie he was doomed to disappointment. There were very few of "the great" present, to begin with; and those who were paid no particular attention to Lionel Moore.
On this Sunday morning, when all the good people had gone to church, there was no sign of life on these far-stretching Winstead Downs. The yellow roads intersecting the undulations of black-and-golden gorse were undisturbed by even a solitary tramp; so that Lionel Moore and his friend Mangan, as they idly walked along, seemed to be the sole possessors of the spacious landscape.
Mangan said, cheerfully. "But I'm going to send her your good wishes, Linn now, when I write. And look here, if she should come up to see you, or your father and mother for it is quite possible the doctors may insist on your giving your voice a rest for a considerable while well, if they should come up from Winstead, mind you say nothing about your monetary troubles.
I can remember, when we used to have our long Sunday walks in those days, what splendid ambitions you had for yourself, and how you were all burning to begin the organist of Winstead Church was to produce his Hallelujah Chorus, and the nations were to listen; and the other night, when I was in your room at the theatre, when I saw you smearing your face and decking yourself out for exhibition before a lot of fashionable idlers, I could not help saying to myself, 'And this is what Linn Moore has come to!"
She was not allowed to know what her mistress was going to do, but was sent away from the station to the hotel at once in a hansom-cab. Then Flossy calmly provided herself with sandwiches and a flask of sherry, took a return-ticket for East Winstead and found herself moving out of the station in a fast train at exactly five minutes to six.
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