ious to his wife, who now found it more difficult than
ever to talk to him. She struggled to talk, and he struggled to talk,
but the very struggles themselves made the thing impossible. He sat
with her in the mornings, and he sat with her in the evenings; he
breakfasted with her, lunched with her, and dined with her. He went
to bed early, having no figures which now claimed his attention. And
so the week at last wore itself away. "I saw him yawning sometimes,"
Lady Glencora said afterwards, "as though he would fall in pieces."

CHAPTER LXIII

Mr John Grey in Queen Anne Street

Alice was resolved that she would keep her promise to Kate, and pay
her visit to Westmoreland before she started with the Pallisers. Kate
had written to her three lines with her left hand, begging her to
come, and those three lines had been more eloquent than anything
she could have written had her right arm been uninjured. Alice had
learned something of the truth as to the accident from her father;
or, rather, had heard her father's surmises on the subject. She had
heard, too, how her cousin George had borne himself when the will was
read, and how he had afterwards disappeared, never showing himself
again at the hall. After all that had passed she felt that she owed
Kate some sympathy. Sympathy may, no doubt, be conveyed by letter;
but there are things on which it is almost impossible for any writer
to express himself with adequate feeling; and there are things,
too, which can be spoken, but which cannot be written. Therefore,
though the journey must be a hurried one, Alice sent word down to
Westmoreland that she was to be expected there in a day or two. On
her return she was to go at once to Park Lane, and sleep there for
the two nights which would intervene before the departure of the
Pallisers.

On the day before she started for Westmoreland her father came to her
in the middle of the day, and told her that John Grey was going to
dine with him in Queen Anne Street on that evening.

"To-day, papa?" she asked.

"Yes, to-day. Why not? No man is less particular as to what he eats
than Grey."

"I was not thinking of that, papa," she said.

To this Mr Vavasor made no reply, but stood for some minutes looking
out of the window. Then he prepared to leave the room, getting
himself first as far as the table, where he lifted a book, and then
on half-way to the door before Alice arrested him.

"Perhaps, papa, you and Mr Grey had better