"Adelaide." Mother's voice came from the doorway, like a basin of cold water poured over.
Adelaide's voice came to an abrupt halt.
She stuck out her tongue, said "I'm sleepy," and ran out.
Flora said nothing.
She just sat there, looking at her mother's hesitant face, and gently smiled: "Mother, you don't need to be like this."
The Old Marchioness sat down beside her bed and held her hand.
Mother's hand was warm, unlike hers which was so cold.
"Flora, you don't need to worry about anything. George is in London, he will take care of everything."
Flora nodded.
She said nothing.
What could she say?
Say that she had already read the seriousness of the situation from her mother and sisters' every hesitant expression?
Say that she had guessed what was being written in the London newspapers from the servants who "forgot" to bring them?
She didn't want to make her mother sad.
