23. Ethelberta’s House (Continued)
Picotee was heard on the stairs: Ethelberta covered her face.
‘Is he waiting?’ she said faintly, on finding that Picotee did not begin to speak.
‘No; he is gone,’ said Picotee.
‘Ah, why is that?’ came quickly from under the handkerchief. ‘He has forgotten me—that’s what it is!’
‘O no, he has not!’ said Picotee, just as bitterly.
Ethelberta had far too much heroism to let much in this strain escape her, though her sister was prepared to go any lengths in the same. ‘I suppose,’ continued Ethelberta, in the quiet way of one who had only a headache the matter with her, ‘that he remembered you after the meeting at Anglebury?’
‘Yes, he remembered me.’
‘Did you tell me you had seen him before that time?’
‘I had seen him at Sandbourne. I don’t think I
