dge.

Wisely, as regarded probabilities, but quite uselessly as regarded
the event! Hardy as he was, that drive in the gig from Bowes did
affect him unpleasantly. That Appleby road has few sheltered spots,
and when about three miles from Bowes he turned off to the right, the
country did not improve. Bowes Lodge he found to be six miles from
the village, and when he drove in at the gate he was colder than he
had been since he left Hurst Staple.

There was very little that was attractive about the house or grounds.
They were dark and sombre, and dull and dingy. The trees were all
stunted, and the house, of which half the windows were closed, was
green with the effects of damp. It was large enough for the residence
of a nobleman of moderate pretensions; but it had about it none of
that spruce, clean, well-cared-for appearance which is common to the
country-houses of the wealthy in England.

When he descended from the gig he thought that he might as well leave
his bag there. The sombre-looking servant in black clothes who opened
the door made no inquiry on the subject; and, therefore, he merely
told his Jehu to drive into the yard and wait for further orders.

His lordship was at home, said the sombre, dingy servant, and in
half a minute Arthur found himself in the marquis's study and in the
marquis's presence, with his nose all red and moist, his feet in an
agony of cold, his fingers benumbed, and his teeth chattering. He was
barely allowed time to take off his greatcoat, and, as he did so, he
felt almost disinclined to part with so good a friend.

"How do you do, Mr. Wilkinson?" said the marquis, rising from his
chair behind the study table, and putting out the ends of his fingers
so as to touch the young clergyman's hand. "Pray take a seat." And
Arthur seated himself--as, indeed, he had no alternative--on a
straight-backed old horsehair-bottomed chair which stood immediately
under a tall black book-case. He was miles asunder from the fire; and
had he been nearer to it, it would have availed him but little; for
the grate was one of those which our grandfathers cleverly invented
for transmitting all the heat up the chimney.

The marquis was tall, thin, and gray-haired. He was, in fact, about
fifty; but he looked to be at least fifteen years older. It was
evident from his face that he was a discontented, moody, unhappy
man. He was one who had not used the world over well; but who was
quite self-assured that the world