I could not prevail on myself to speak to her. So I went to her room with
my note, and knocked at the door.
Here again there was no reply. I knocked once more--with the same result.
I looked in. There was no one in the room. On the little table at the
foot of the bed, there lay a letter addressed to me. The writing was in
Zillah's hand. But Lucilla had written her name in the corner in the
usual way, to show that she had dictated the letter to her nurse. A load
was lifted off my heart as I took it up. The same idea (I concluded) had
occurred to her which had occurred to me. She too had shrunk from the
embarrassment of a personal explanation. She too had written--and was
keeping out of the way until her letter had spoken for her, and had
united us again as friends before I left the house.
With these pleasant anticipations, I opened the letter. Judge what I felt
when I found what it really contained.
"DEAR MADAME PRATOLUNGO,--You will agree with me, that it is very
important, after what Herr Grosse has said about the recovery of my
sight, that my visit to Ramsgate should not be delayed. As you are
unable, through circumstances which I sincerely regret, to accompany me
to the sea-side, I have determined to go to London to my aunt, Miss
Batchford, and to ask her to be my companion instead of you. I have had
experience enough of her sincere affection for me to be quite sure that
she will gladly take the charge of me off your hands.
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