He bore her out into the open air, where he was instantly surrounded by
half a dozen ladies, each insisting that the fair stranger should be taken
to her house. First among these was Mrs. Crane, who saw by a glance at
Kate that her presence would not be derogatory to any house, so she
determined to have her taken to her own dwelling, and urged her claim so
hard that Mr. Miller at last consented, thinking that Mrs. Williams must
be wearied with the recent illness of Mr. Wilmot.
Accordingly, when Kate was again restored to consciousness, she found
herself in an elegantly furnished room, with a gaily dressed, handsome
lady sitting by her. This was Mrs. Carrington, whose delicate nerves would
not suffer her to attend a funeral. On seeing Kate move, she spoke to her
and asked her if she felt better.
"Yes, much better," said Kate; "but where am I? What has happened?" And
then as the recollection of what had occurred came over her, she burst
into tears and said, "My brother--they have buried him, I suppose, and I
cannot see him again."
Mrs. Carrington answered, "I think they have not gone to the cemetery yet.
I will dispatch a servant and ask them to delay the burial a few moments,
if you desire it."
Kate thanked her; but at that moment a messenger came from Mr. Miller. He
had anticipated Kate's wishes, and sent word that a carriage was waiting
to convey her to the church, where she would have another opportunity of
seeing her brother. Mrs. Carrington felt constrained to offer to accompany
her, and the two proceeded to the church and thence to the cemetery.
Although Mrs. Carrington had not visited Mr. Wilmot during his illness,
she was by no means ignorant of Fanny's attentions. She had taken great
pains to comment upon them in Dr. Lacey's presence, saying, "that she had
often suspected Fanny of possessing a more than ordinary affection for Mr.
Wilmot, and she had sometimes thought her affection returned. For her
part, she did not blame Julia for absenting herself from him, for she had
probably discovered his preference for her sister." Her object in doing
this was to make Dr. Lacey think less favorably of Fanny, for with her
practised eye she had discovered that for no other female did he feel such
an interest as for "Little Fanny Middleton," as she always termed her.
At the grave she noticed Fanny's pale face and swollen eyes, and found
occasion to say to her, loud enough for Dr. Lacey to hear, "I am
astonished, Fanny, to see you show to the world how much you loved your
sister's betrothed."