here Vic had so maliciously disturbed his love making.
He stood aside to make room for his mistress, who addressed him in her
usual calm fashion.

"Go to the stables," she said, "and order my groom to bring Gipsy round;
he need not trouble himself to attend me. I shall ride alone."

Dolf hurried down the hall, and his mistress went into her little
sitting-room, opened her desk and wrote some words on a slip of paper
which she folded and thrust under the gauntlet of her glove. Then she
stood by the window watching till her horse was brought round.

He came at last, a light graceful animal, so full of life, that he
fairly danced upon the gravel, and flung the sunshine from his arched
neck with the grace of a wild gazelle. He whinnied a little, and put out
his head for a tribute of sugar, which Bessie always gave him before she
mounted the saddle. But she had nothing of the kind for him now;
scarcely touching the groom's hand with her foot, she sprang upon his
back and rode slowly away, turning him upon the turf which was like
velvet, and gave back no sound. Thus, with an appearance of indolent
leisure, she passed out of sight.

There was nothing remarkable in this. Elizabeth had been in the habit of
riding around the estate, without escort, during the two years in which
her husband had been absent, so the groom went back to his work and
thought no more of the matter.

Elizabeth rode forward, without any appearance of excitement, until a
grove of trees concealed her from the house; then she put her horse upon
the road, and ran him at the top of his speed to the edge of the
village.

Once among houses she rode on leisurely again, and stopped at the post
office to enquire for letters,--getting down from her horse, an unusual
thing with her. There was a telegraph station connected with the post
office, and while the man was searching his mail, she took the slip of
paper from her glove, and laid it with some money before the operator.

The telegram was directed to that hotel near the Battery, which has
already been described.

CHAPTER LVII.

KITCHEN GOSSIP.

The day was passing--that long, terrible day--in which the moments
seemed to lengthen themselves into hours, while with every one the gloom
about the old house deepened and pressed more heavily down.

Grantley Mellen was in his library still, it had been a busy day with
him; it appeared as if every creature within reach who could invent a
plea of busi