or. When she got in she called
Catherine to her.

"Kate, the girl you saw hiding in the avenue has come to live at the
lodge."

"Mother!"

"I have seen her and spoken to her, my dear daughter. She is nothing
either to you or me. Take no notice of her."

"Very well, mother."

Meanwhile, in her little parlor, in the old lodge, Josephine stood with
her hands clasped, and fiery lights of anger, disappointment, pain,
flashing from her eyes. Were that woman's words true? Had Loftus Bertram
gone away? If so, if indeed he had left because she had arrived,
then--Her eyes flashed once more, and with so wicked a light that Mrs.
Tester, who, unobserved, had come into the room, left it again in a
fright. She thought Josephine Hart looked dangerous. She was right. No
one could be more dangerous if she chose.

CHAPTER XVI.

A BRITISH MERCHANT.

Soon after four that afternoon, Davis's tumble-down cab might have been
seen standing outside the gate of the Gray House. Immediately afterwards
the door was opened, and Mrs. Meadowsweet, in her rose-colored satin,
with a black lace shawl, and a bonnet to match made her appearance.

She stepped into the cab, and was followed by Beatrice, Jane, the little
maid, handing in after them a small band-box, which contained the cap
trimmed with Honiton lace.

Mrs. Meadowsweet's cheeks were slightly flushed, and her good-humored
eyes were shining with contentment and satisfaction.

"Oh, there's Mrs. Morris!" she said to Beatrice. "I'd better tell her
where we are going. She's always so interested in the Manor folks.
Davis, stop the cab a minute! Call to him, Bee. Da-vis!"

The cap stopped, and Mrs. Morris, eager and bustling, drew nigh.

"How are you, dear?" she said. "How do you do, Beatrice? Isn't it bad
for you, dear love," turning again to the elder lady, "to have the
window of the fly open? Although it is summer, and the doctor makes a
fuss about the thermometer being over eighty in the shade, I know for a
positive fact that the wind is east, and very treacherous."

"I don't take cold easily, Jessie," replied Mrs. Meadowsweet. "No, I
prefer not to have the windows up, poor Bee would be over hot. We must
think of the young things, mustn't we, Jessie? Well, you'll wonder why I
am in my best toggery! Bee and I are off to the Manor, no less, I assure
you. And to dinner, too! There's news for you."

"Well, I'm sure!" responded Mrs. Morris. Envy was in every tone of her
voice,