One thing she was positive about--she would take nothing out of that
house she did not bring into it--even to a heartache.
She entered the family a month before Gore at heart--well, she was
leaving it in a like condition.
Whilst she was making her few little preparations, Mrs. Chichester
was reviewing the whole situation in her room. She was compelled to
admit, however outraged her feelings may have been the previous
night, that should Peg carry out her intention to desert them, the
family would be in a parlous condition. The income from Mr.
Kingsnorth's will was indeed the one note of relief to the
distressed household. She had passed a wretched night, and after a
cup of tea in her room, and a good long period of reflection, she
decided to seek the aid of the head of the family--her son.
She found him in the morning-room lying full length on a lounge
reading the "Post." He jumped up directly he saw her, led her over
to the lounge, kissed her, put her down gently beside him and asked
her how she was feeling.
"I didn't close my eyes all night," answered the unhappy old lady.
"Isn't that rotten?" said Alaric sympathetically. "I was a bit
plungy myself--first one side and then the other." And he yawned and
stretched languidly.
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