The doctor had left certain instructions, warning the mother to
guard against any accident that might remind Kitty of the day on
which Sydney had left her. At the time of that bitter parting,
the child had seen her governess in the same walking-dress which
she wore now. Mrs. Linley removed the hat and cloak, and laid
them on a chair.

"There is one other precaution which we must observe," she said;
"I must ask you to wait in my room until I find that you may show
yourself safely. Now come with me."

Mrs. Presty followed them, and begged earnestly for leave to wait
the result of the momentous experiment, at the door of Kitty's
bedroom. Her self-asserting manner had vanished; she was quiet,
she was even humble. While the last chance for the child's life
was fast becoming a matter of minutes only, the grandmother's
better nature showed itself on the surface. Randal opened the
door for them as the three went out together. He was in that
state of maddening anxiety about his poor little niece in which
men of his imaginative temperament become morbid, and say
strangely inappropriate things. In the same breath with which he
implored his sister-in-law to let him hear what had happened,
without an instant of delay, he startled Mrs. Presty by one of
his familiar remarks on the inconsistencies in her character.
"You disagreeable old woman," he whispered, as she passed him,
"you have got a heart, after all."

Left alone, he was never for one moment in repose, while the slow
minutes followed each other in the silent house.