We were out, I should think, at least three hours, and then my mother felt faint, and we went back.
The good rector met us and shook hands very kindly with us, but he was pale and agitated, not like himself in the least.

Patience was there, and Emma; the other servants were huddled in groups, and I knew something very terrible had happened--something--but what?
The rector said Lady Tayne was tired, and must have some wine.

My mother took it, and was placed upon her couch once more.

She turned to the footman and asked if my father had returned.

The answer was--no.