If she dreamed that night, she did not remember the dreams. But she woke with a strange feeling of heaviness and lay pondering the matter for some time before she realized what was troubling her. Today was Tuesday. The fateful anniversary was only three days off.
When she went to pay her morning call on the Duchess, she found her up and dressing, with the faithful Rose in attendance. The maid had evidently conquered her grief, but she had not gotten over her resentment of Marianne; her greeting was barely civil. The Duchess did not seem to notice.
"Enjoy the sunshine while it lasts, my child," she murmured. "It is all too brief…"
So Marianne left. Henry was lying in wait for her in the breakfast room. He barely allowed her time to eat before he demanded a repetition of the lawn-tennis game.
"A few more days of practice and you will be quite good at it," he remarked patronizingly. "For a girl, that is. Do hurry. I have been waiting ever so long."
Having nothing better to do, Marianne passed the morning with him. They returned to the house in time to see a hired carriage leaving. Henry craned his neck to see who was inside.
"My new tutor, I expect," he said. "Grandmother Honoria said one would be coming. That means I shall have only a few more days of holiday, Miss Ransom; we had better have another practice this afternoon."
"Impossible," Marianne said, laughing. "You know I am not as young as you; I have done quite enough for one day."
They were standing by the front steps, and as Henry argued his case Marianne fancied she saw a curtain in one of the upper windows move aside and a face peer out. Whether she was correct in identifying it she did not know; but it reminded her of poor timid Lady Violet, and she interrupted Henry with a firm "No, I really cannot. As for you, you ought to spend some time with your dear mama. That should be a pleasure as well as a duty."
"Oh." Henry thought a moment. "All right. She likes to read to me, and I don't mind it much… Thank you for your company, Miss Ransom. We must do it again sometime."
With a very dignified bow, he offered his arm and led her into the house.
The Duchess did not come down to luncheon, but Marianne found the doctor and Lady Annabelle deep in conversation. Lady Annabelle had taken advantage of the Duchess's absence to introduce several cats into the room, and Marianne was amused at the doctor's calm forbearance; he devoured his lunch quite unperturbed by the chorus of meows and by the sight of his namesake's tail waving like a banner above the edge of the table.
They were on the second course when the door opened and Carlton came in. He was wearing riding clothes and seemed to be in a particularly evil temper; with a sketchy bow toward Lady Annabelle and a gruff greeting to the others, he threw himself into a chair and demanded food.
The doctor stared at him in mild surprise. "Where have you been all morning? I had intended to challenge you to a game of billiards."
"I had an errand," Carlton replied, stabbing viciously at the piece of sole the footman had placed before him.
"Satisfactory, I hope?"
"Not at all."
The doctor raised his eyebrows and then turned to Lady Annabelle, inquiring politely about the health of Fluffy.
Since Marianne was not especially interested in Fluffy's health she ate in silence, wondering what Carlton was up to. He had taken several mysterious journeys lately. No doubt, she thought cynically, he is trying to find out something to my discredit.
Lady Annabelle never followed conventional social usage, and this occasion was no exception. Instead of giving the nods and winks that indicated to the ladies that it is time to retire, she rose abruptly midway through the last course. Remarking, "You are in a wretched mood, Carlton; you are making Horace the cat quite nervous; I shall go now," she took her departure, with the spoiled Horace in her arms. Caught unawares, Marianne started to rise too, but was waved back into her chair by the doctor.
"No need for ceremony," he grunted. "Eat your meal, child. What the dev- er – what is wrong with you, Roger? You may not be affecting that animal's nerves, but you are doing mine no good."
"Sorry." Carlton pushed his plate away. "To be candid, Gruffstone, I have taken a certain liberty and I don't know how you will react. I hope you will not be offended."
"What have you done?" the doctor inquired calmly.
"I have summoned Sir Walter Bliss to see the Duchess."
Carlton dropped the words like bullets and looked as if he expected an explosion to follow. Instead, after a look of unconcealed astonishment, the doctor's face broke into a broad smile.
"Splendid, my boy, splendid! How did you persuade Honoria to see him? I have been trying for months."
"I have not yet told her. I thought she could not send him away after he had come so far on her account."
"That was well thought of." The doctor tugged thoughtfully at his mustache. "It never occurred to me. Well – fools rush in, if you will forgive me, my boy. I could not be more pleased." Seeing Marianne's bafflement, he explained, "Sir Walter is probably the best heart specialist in England. I am mightily relieved to have a second opinion, I can tell you. When does he come?"
"This afternoon. I learned from an article in the Times that he was to be in Edinburgh this week, so I sent a telegram. I have just now received the answer."
"Splendid, splendid," the doctor repeated. "Who knows, perhaps he will have good news for us. I am only a simple general practitioner; I could be wrong. I hope I am."
Carlton seemed to be cast into even greater gloom by this genial pronouncement. Marianne waited until the doctor had left, to prepare for the visit of the specialist; then she said, "I suppose you will not care to ride this afternoon."
"Not with Sir Walter expected. I wish to hear what he has to say."
"You have no objection if I go alone?"
"Suit yourself," was the ungracious reply.
The dignified butler, obviously confused by the unconventional division of the luncheon party, brought in the port. Carlton gestured for his glass to be filled, and Marianne left him with the decanter before him.
Thinking Henry might like to join her in a ride, she went to the schoolroom. Nanny, nodding by the fire, told her the boy was with his mother, so Marianne was forced to request the company of one of the grooms. The menace from Bagshot had been removed, but she had not forgotten the Duchess's warning about getting lost.
The presence of the manservant, trotting respectfully behind her, took some of the pleasure from the ride and she cut it short, returning by way of the village. If she hoped to catch a glimpse of the vicar she was disappointed; but she did see something that surprised her – the black-clad visitor whom Carlton had suspected of being Bagshot in disguise. As on the previous occasion, he was walking away from her. Marianne urged Stella into a trot, hoping to overtake the man and see his face, but before she could catch him up he turned into the inn and disappeared. So she returned to the castle.
The Duchess's carriage, waiting before the castle, made her wonder who was about to go on a journey before she realized that it must have been sent to fetch the famous medical man. Handing her reins to the groom and giving Stella an affectionate pat, she hurried in. She found Carlton in the library, pacing back and forth between the open door and the fireplace.
"What news?" she asked. "He has come, has he not? I saw the carriage -"
"He is with her now. I am waiting to catch him before he goes; he must return immediately to Edinburgh."
Marianne was tempted to join him in his agitated walk, but forced herself to take a chair.
"By the way," she remarked, "the gentleman who was staying at the Devenbrook Arms is still here. He was not Mr. Bagshot after all."