Thus when on the Monday morning at breakfast Miss Selina observed,
"What a fine day Mr. Lyon was having for his journey; what a lucky
fellow he was; how he would be sure to make a fortune, and if so, she
wondered whether they should ever see or hear any thing of him
again"--Elizabeth, from the glimpse she caught of Miss Hilary's face,
and from the quiet way in which Miss Leaf merely answered, "Time will
show;" and began talking to Selina about some other
subject--Elizabeth resolved never in any way to make the smallest
allusion to Mr. Robert Lyon. Something had happened, she did not know
what; and it was not her business to find out; the family affairs, so
far as she was trusted with them, were warmly her own, but into the
family secrets she had no right to pry.

Yet, long after Miss Selina had ceased to "wonder" about him, or even
to name him--his presence or absence did not touch her personally,
and she was always the centre of her own small world of interest--the
little maidservant kept in her mind, and pondered over at odd times
every possible solution of the mystery of this gentleman's sudden
visit; of the long wet Sunday when he sat all day talking with her
mistresses in the parlor; of the evening prayer, when Miss Leaf had
twice to stop, her voice faltered so; and of the night when, long
after all the others had gone to bed, Elizabeth, coming suddenly into
the parlor, had found Miss Hilary sitting alone over the embers of
the fire, with the saddest, saddest look! so that the girl had softly
shut the door again without ever speaking to "Missis."

Elizabeth did more; which, strange as it may appear, a servant who is
supposed to know nothing of any thing that has happened can often do
better than a member of the family who knows every thing, and this
knowledge is sometimes the most irritating consciousness a sufferer