which he declared that he could in no
way interfere in his mother's affairs had frightened her. "But, Mr.
Lucius," she had said, "she ought to be doing something, you know.
There is no believing how bitter Samuel is about it."

"He may be as bitter as he likes, Mrs. Dockwrath," young Mason had
answered with considerable dignity in his manner. "It will not in the
least affect my mother's interests. In the present instance, however,
I am not her adviser." Whereupon Mrs. Dockwrath had retired, and as
she was afraid to go to Lady Mason at The Cleeve, she was about to
return home when she opened the gate for Mrs. Furnival. She then
explained that Lady Mason was not at home and had not been at home
for some weeks; that she was staying with her friends at The Cleeve,
and that in order to get there Mrs. Furnival must go back through
Hamworth and round by the high road.

"I knows the way well enough, Mrs. Dockwrath," said the driver. "I've
been at The Cleeve before now, I guess."

So Mrs. Furnival was driven back to Hamworth, and on going over that
piece of ground she resolved that she would follow Lady Mason to The
Cleeve. Why should she be afraid of Sir Peregrine Orme or of all the
Ormes? Why should she fear any one while engaged in the performance
of so sacred a duty? I must confess that in truth she was very much
afraid, but nevertheless she had herself taken on to The Cleeve. When
she arrived at the door, she asked of course for Lady Mason, but did
not feel at all inclined to follow the servant uninvited into the
house as recommended by Miss Biggs. Lady Mason, the man said, was
not very well, and after a certain amount of parley at the door the
matter ended in her being shown into the drawing-room, where she was
soon joined by Mrs. Orme.

"I am Mrs. Furnival," she began, and then Mrs. Orme begged her to sit
down. "I have come here to see Lady Mason--on some business--some
business not of a very pleasant nature. I'm sure I don't know how to
trouble you with it, and yet--" And then even Mrs. Orme could see
that her visitor was somewhat confused.

"Is it about the trial?" asked Mrs. Orme.

"Then there is really a lawsuit going on?"

"A lawsuit!" said Mrs. Orme, rather puzzled.

"You said something about a trial. Now, Mrs. Orme, pray do not
deceive me. I'm a very unhappy woman; I am indeed."

"Deceive you! Why should I deceive you?"

"No, indeed. Why should you? And now I look at you I do not think you
will."

"I