This dream, co-operating with her previous agitation and misgivings,
shook her very much; she did not come down-stairs till near dinner-time;
and both her father and Falcon, who came as a matter of course to spend
his Sunday, were struck with her appearance. She was pale, gloomy,
morose, and had an air of desperation about her.
Falcon would not see it; he knew that it is safest to let her sex alone
when they look like that; and then the storm sometimes subsides of
itself.
After dinner, Rosa retired early; and soon she was heard walking rapidly
up and down the dressing-room.
This was quite unusual, and made a noise.
Papa Lusignan thought it inconsiderate; and after a while, remarking
gently that he was not particularly fond of sound, he proposed they
should smoke the pipe of peace on the lawn.
They did so; but after a while, finding that Falcon was not smoking, he
said, "Don't let me detain you. Rosa is alone."
Falcon took the hint, and went to the drawing-room. Rosa met him on the
stairs, with a scarf over her shoulders. "I must speak to papa," said
she. "Where is he?"
"He is on the lawn, dear Rosa," said Falcon, in his most dulcet tones.
He was sure of his ally, and very glad to use him as a buffer to receive
the first shock.
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