She had stilled every voice which had whispered to her that it was
indeed time that she heard some word from her lover. Because there were
now only occasional notices in the papers about his health, he was
supposed to be getting well.
"I will implore Cheiron to let me go back with him," she decided firmly,
as she went downstairs to breakfast. "I will ask if I may not go out and
see him this morning," and, comforted with this thought, she entered the
dining-room with a brisker step than usual. No one but her stepfather
was down.
He had grown accustomed, if not quite attached, to the quiet, gentle
girl, and he liked her noiseless, punctual way--they had often
breakfasted alone.
He was reading his _Chronicle_ propped up in front of him, and handed
her the _Morning Post_ from the pile by his side. He silently went on
with his cutlet which an obsequious butler had placed for his
consumption. Halcyone turned rapidly to the column where she was
accustomed to look daily for news of her lover. And there she read that
Mrs. Cricklander had been entertaining a Saturday to Monday party, and
that Mr.
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