white and silent as if she did not want to get better, only seeming
thoroughly to wake up when she asked, as she did at least every two
hours, how papa was, and sinking back again when the usual answer came
of 'No better,' or 'Very little better.' Her mother was very kind to
her, but she could not be much with Biddy, and perhaps it was as well,
for it would have been almost impossible for her to hide for long her
great unhappiness about Mr. Vane.

Mrs. Fairchild came to the Rectory as often as she could; sometimes she
sat with Biddy for an hour or more at a time, but Biddy scarcely spoke,
and Celestina's mother was both sorry for her and anxious about her.

'There seems no one able to pay much attention to her,' she said one
evening at home; 'poor Mrs. Vane is so taken up, and no wonder, with her
husband, and Rosalys is as busy as she can be, helping and seeing to
everything.'

There came a little voice from the other side of the table: the
Fairchilds were at tea.

'Mother, do you think I might go to see her?' it asked. 'I'd be very
quiet.'

'I'll ask,' Mrs. Fairchild answered. 'You might come with me to-morrow
and wait outside while I find out if it would do.'

Mrs. Vane had no objection--Biddy was really not ill now, she said. It
was just one of her queer ways to lie still and refuse to get up.
Perhaps Celestina would make her ashamed of herself. So Celestina was
brought upstairs, and tapped gently at the door.