d
under the tree.

When she turned, even in her terror, she assumed a defiant attitude, and
she held it still, facing the man.

Reynolds instinctively knew she was a lady, and with a touch of his
hat, but a doubting sternness in his voice, he said:

"Who are you, please, and what do you want here at this hour of the
night--or morning?"

She was reassured, knowing the voice to be that of a common man, and as
quickly judging him to be Geoffrey's servant.

"I am an old friend of Lord Brompton's family," she said, steadily
enough; "and as I return to London to-morrow, I have walked here
to-night just to see where the head of a grand old line is forced to
reside."

Reynolds was touched on his tender spot. The sternness left his voice,
and with bare head he said sadly:

"Ay, ma'am, in truth it is a sad sight to see the Lord of Ripon living
in the cottage that was once the home of his groom--for my father kept
the gate here for forty years."

"Lord Brompton has not yet come home?" asked Mrs. Carey, for it was she,
though she knew he had not.

"No, ma'am; he hasn't yet come out on the cliff walk. I can see him with
this glass--as I saw you," he added, explaining his presence.

Mrs. Carey gave a grim little smile in the dark.

"You would like to see the lodge, perhaps, ma'am, inside as well as
out?"

"Yes; I should like it very much; but I ought not to venture now. Lord
Brompton might return, and I should not wish him to know I had been here
for the world. I am overjoyed to know that he has at least one friend
who is faithful to him," and she held out her white hand to the old man.

She said this so graciously that old Reynolds was carried off his feet.
This fine patronage sent him back to his young manhood, when he was
whipper-in to the old Earl's foxhounds, and heard such voices and saw
such upright ladies in the hunting-field.

"Come in, my lady," he said, glancing at the cliff path; "he cannot
reach here under half an hour. You can see all there is to be seen of
the poor place in a few minutes."

The old man led, and she followed toward the lodge.

"Have a care of the steps, my lady; they are the worse for wear."

He entered before her, and threw open the door of the main room. The
place was made cheery and comfortable by a blazing wood-fire on the
great iron dogs, and a round copper kettle singing and steaming on one
side of the hearth.

The lady entered and stood by the table, glancing keenly at eve