'Yes, we are cousins, but the relationship is remote. Tell her everything;
beg of her to come down-stairs.'

Hubert imagined Emily's little black figure thrown upon her bed, sobbing
convulsively. He was very much agitated, and looked about the room, at
first hardly seeing it. At last its novelty drew his thoughts from his
cousin's tears, and he wondered what was the history of the house. 'The old
man,' he thought, 'bought it all, furniture and ancestors, from some ruined
landowner, and attempted very few alterations--that's clear.' Then he
reproached himself. 'How could I have been so stupid? I did not know what I
was saying. I was so horribly nervous. Those strange eyes of hers quite
upset me. I do hope Mrs. Bentley will tell her that I wish to act
generously, that I am prepared to do everything in my power to make her
happy. Poor little thing! She looks as if she had never been happy.' Again
the room drew Hubert's thoughts away from his cousin. It was still lit with
the faint perfumed glow of the sunset. The paint of the old decorations was
cracked and faded. A man in a plum-coloured coat with gold facings fixed
his eyes upon him, and the tall lady in blue satin had no doubt played
there in short clothes. He walked up and down, he turned over the music on
the piano, and, hearing a step, looked round. It was only the servant
coming to tell him that his room was ready.

He dressed for dinner, hoping to find the two ladies in the drawing-room,
and it was a disappointment to find only Mrs. Bentley there.

'I have told Emily everything you said. She is very grateful, and begs of
me to thank you for your kind intentions. But I am afraid you must excuse
her absence from dinner. I really don't think she is in a fit state to come
down; she couldn't possibly take part in the conversation.'