A Bankrupt Heart, Volume I by Florence Marryat

Miss Llewellyn had almost forgotten that she was to expect a visit from Lord Ilfracombe's solicitor, Mr Sterndale, when one day, as she was sitting alone, his card was brought in to her. Hetty and William had returned to Usk by this time. Their modest resources could not stand out against more than a week in London, though their sister had helped them as much as they would allow her. So they were gone, taking the fresh smell of the country with them, and leaving Miss Llewellyn more melancholy and depressed than they had found her. For she had not heard again from Lord Ilfracombe since the few lines she had received on the day of their arrival, and she was beginning to dread all sorts of unlikely things, just because the unusual silence frightened her, like a child left alone in the dark. Hetty and Will had been most urgent that she should accompany them back to Usk, and for a moment Nell thought the temptation too great to be resisted. What would she not give for a sight of her dear mother's face, she thought -- for her father's grave smile; for a night or two spent in the old farmhouse where she had been so careless and so happy; to lie down to sleep with the scent of the climbing roses and honeysuckle in her nostrils, and the lowing of the cattle and twittering of the wild birds in her ears.

And Ilfracombe had urged her to take change of air, too. He would be pleased to hear she had left London for awhile! But here came the idea that he might return home any day, perhaps unexpectedly and sooner than he imagined, and then if she were absent what would he think? -- what would she suffer? She would not cease to reproach herself. Oh, no, it was useless for Hetty to plead with her. She would come back some day, when she could have a holiday without inconvenience, but just now with the master of the house absent, her mother would understand it was impossible; it would not be right for her, in her position as housekeeper, to leave the servants to look after themselves. So Hetty, having been brought up very strictly with regard to duty, was fain to acquiesce in her sister's decision, and comfort herself with the hope that she would fulfil her promise some day. But when they had left London, Nell felt as if she had escaped a great danger, and was only just able to breathe freely again. And had she accompanied them to Usk, and gone to stay at Panty-cuckoo Farm, she would have felt almost as bad. To live under the eyes of her parents day after day; to have to submit to their eager questioning; to evade their sharpness -- for country people are sometimes very sharp in matters that affect their domestic happiness and very eager for revenge when their family honour is compromised; all this Nell felt she dared not, under present circumstances, undergo.