Once or twice Irene fancied her delirious, for she seemed to
speak without consciousness of a hearer. To the inquiry whether it
was in her niece's power to be of any service, she answered at first
with sorrowful negatives, but said presently that she would like to
see Piers Otway; could Irene write to him, and ask him to come?
"He shall come," was the reply.
On going down, Irene met her cousin, just returned. To her she spoke
of Mrs. Hannaford's wish.
"I promised he should be sent for. Will you do it, Olga?"
"It is already done," Olga answered. "Did she forget? One of the
things I went out for was to telegraph to him."
They gazed at each other with distressful eyes.
"Oh, what does the man deserve who has caused tills?" exclaimed
Olga, who herself began to look ill. "It's dreadful! I am afraid to
go into the room. If I had someone here to live with me!"
Irene's instinct was to offer to come, but she remembered the
difficulties. Her duties at home were obstacles sufficient. She had
to content herself with promising to call as often as possible.
Returning to Bryanston Square, she thought with annoyance of the
possibility that her father and Piers Otway might come face to face
in that house. Never till now had she taxed her father with
injustice. It seemed to her an intolerable thing that the blameless
man should be made to share in obloquy merited by his brother.
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