"I am so frightened and nervous at everything connected with death," she
said.

"Your best plan will be to remain in your own room until it is all
over," I suggested, and she seemed very grateful for the thought.

"Will you take some tea?" she asked, suddenly. "I always made tea for
Sir Barnard and Miles."

Then she drew back shrinkingly, her face crimson.

"I beg your pardon," she said. "I forgot; I have no right to take the
same place now."

What could I do but hasten to implore her not to yield to such an idea,
to consider Crown Anstey her home, as it had been--at least for a time?

"You make me so happy!" she said; "but how can I--how can I stay here? I
find it awkward to explain myself--how can I remain here with you?"

I hastened eagerly to explain that I had a sister, an invalid sister,
and that I should be delighted if she would take an interest in her; and
it pleased me to think how happy Clare would be.

"Then you wish me to remain here as a companion to your sister?" she
said, slowly; and there was evidently some little disappointment in her
face.

"Unless we can think of something more pleasant for you," I replied. "We