ently into as many apartments. Mrs. Olney threw one wide and
ushered her into a room damp-smelling, and hung with drab, but of good
size and otherwise comfortable. The windows looked over a neglected
Dutch garden, which was so rankly overgrown that the box hedges scarce
rose above the wilderness of parterres. Beyond this, and divided from it
by a deep-sunk fence, a pool fringed with sedges and marsh-weeds carried
the eye to an alder thicket that closed the prospect.

Julia, in her relief on finding that the table was laid for one only,
paid no heed to the outlook or to the bars that crossed the windows, but
sank into a chair and mechanically ate and drank. Apprised after a while
that Mrs. Olney had returned and was watching her with fatuous
good-nature, she asked her if she knew at what hour she was to leave.

'To leave?' said the housekeeper, whose almost invariable custom it was
to repeat the last words addressed to her. 'Oh, yes, to leave.
Of course.'

'But at what time?' Julia asked, wondering whether the woman was as dull
as she seemed.

'Yes, at what time?' Then after a pause and with a phenomenal effort, 'I
will go and see--if you please.'

She returned presently. 'There are no horses,' she said. 'When they are
ready the gentleman will let you know.'

'They have sent for some?'

'Sent for some,' repeated Mrs. Olney, and nodded, but whether in assent
or imbecility it was hard to say.

After that Julia troubled her no more, but rising from her meal had
recourse to the window and her own thoughts. These were in unison with
the neglected garden and the sullen pool, which even the sunshine failed
to enliven. Her heart was torn between the sense of Sir George's
treachery--which now benumbed her brain and now awoke it to a fury of
resentment--and fond memories of words and looks and gestures, that
shook her very frame and left her sick--love-sick and trembling. She did
not look forward or form plans; nor, in the dull lethargy in which she
was for the most part sunk, was she aware of the passage of time until
Mrs. Olney came in with mouth and eyes a little wider than usual, and
announced that the gentleman was coming up.

Julia supposed that the woman referred to Mr. Thomasson; and, recalled
to the necessity of returning to Marlborough, she gave a reluctant
permission. Great was her astonishment when, a moment later, not the
tutor, but Lord Almeric, fanning himself with a laced handkerchief and
carrying his li