ked at her from
his lack-lustre eyes, fixing them upon her for minutes together,
till the minutes seemed to be hours, she became afraid. She did not
confess to herself that she had fallen into his power; nor did she
realize the fact that it was so; but without realizing it she was
dominated, so that she also began to think that it would be well
that the chaplain should be made to leave Trafford Park. He, however,
continued to discuss with her all family matters as though his
services were indispensable to her; and she was unable to answer him
in such a way as to reject his confidences.

The telegram reached the butler as to Hampstead's coming on the
Monday, and was, of course, communicated at once to Lord Kingsbury.
The Marquis, who was now confined to his bed, expressed himself
as greatly gratified, and himself told the news to his wife. She,
however, had already heard it, as had also the chaplain. It quickly
went through the whole household, in which among the servants there
existed an opinion that Lord Hampstead ought to have been again
sent for some days since. The Doctor had hinted as much to the
Marchioness, and had said so plainly to the butler. Mr. Greenwood had
expressed to her ladyship his belief that the Marquis had no desire
to see his son, and that the son certainly had no wish to pay another
visit to Trafford. "He cares more about the Quaker's daughter than
anything else," he had said,--"about her and his hunting. He and his
sister consider themselves as separated from the whole of the family.
I should leave them alone if I were you." Then she had said a faint
word to her husband, and had extracted from him something that
was supposed to be the expression of a wish that Lord Hampstead
should not be disturbed. Now Lord Hampstead was coming without any
invitation.

"Going to walk over, is he, in the middle of the night?" said Mr.
Greenwood, preparing to discuss the matter with the Marchioness.
There was something of scorn in his voice, as though he were taking
upon himself to laugh at Lord Hampstead for having chosen this way of
reaching his father's house.

"He often does that," said the Marchioness.

"It's an odd way of coming into a sick house,--to disturb it in the
middle of the night." Mr. Greenwood, as he spoke, stood looking at
her ladyship severely.

"How am I to help it? I don't suppose anybody will be disturbed at
all. He'll come round to the side door, and one of the servants will
be up to