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Updated: June 14, 2025
Miss Halcombe humanely and sensibly allowed all due force to the influence of prejudice and alarm in preventing him from fairly exercising his perceptions, and accounted for what had happened in that way.
She looked up to see him standing there with his grave, amused smile. Her first thought was to jump and run; her second, to stand fire. "Well, Mr. Halcombe! Moppet's stuck yellow leaves all over me; my hair's down; I've got on a horrid old morning-dress; look pretty to see company, don't I?" "Very, Sharley." "Besides," said Sharley, "I've been crying, and my eyes are red." "So I see."
At the end of that time the nurse came quickly round the corner of the wall holding Lady Glyde by the arm. The moment they met Miss Halcombe put the bank-notes and the letter into her hand, and the sisters were united again. The nurse had dressed Lady Glyde, with excellent forethought, in a bonnet, veil, and shawl of her own.
"I will try to be worthier of your kind feeling for me and for my interests if you will only come again." Still clinging to the past that past which I represented to her, in my way, as Miss Halcombe did in hers! It troubled me sorely to see her looking back, at the beginning of her career, just as I look back at the end of mine.
She might then slip out for half an hour, after the patients had dined, and she would meet the lady in a retired place, outside the high north wall which screened the grounds of the house. Miss Halcombe had only time to assent, and to whisper to her sister that she should hear from her on the next day, when the proprietor of the Asylum joined them.
"Did he mention his business?" I asked. "Count Fosco said he had come here, sir, because Miss Halcombe was unable to leave Blackwater Park." Fresh troubles, apparently. Not exactly his own, as I had supposed, but dear Marian's. Troubles, anyway. Oh dear! "Show him in," I said resignedly. The Count's first appearance really startled me. He was such an alarmingly large person that I quite trembled.
The work of cleansing the monument had been left unfinished, and the person by whom it had been begun might return to complete it. On getting back to the house I informed Miss Halcombe of what I intended to do. She looked surprised and uneasy while I was explaining my purpose, but she made no positive objection to the execution of it. She only said, "I hope it may end well."
I am sincerely thankful to say that was the last I saw of Mrs. Rubelle. When I went into the room Miss Halcombe was asleep. I looked at her anxiously, as she lay in the dismal, high, old-fashioned bed. She was certainly not in any respect altered for the worse since I had seen her last. She had not been neglected, I am bound to admit, in any way that I could perceive.
It was traced on ruled lines, in the cramped, conventional, copy-book character technically termed "small hand." It was feeble and faint, and defaced by blots, but had otherwise nothing to distinguish it. "That is not an illiterate letter," said Miss Halcombe, "and at the same time, it is surely too incoherent to be the letter of an educated person in the higher ranks of life.
You have taken your own mean, underhand view of an innocent deception practised on Lady Glyde for her own good. It was essential to her health that she should have a change of air immediately, and you know as well as I do she would never have gone away if she had been told Miss Halcombe was still left here. She has been deceived in her own interests and I don't care who knows it.
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