lly was alone--never entered the rooms on the
ground-floor. Nor did she ever pass through the wilderness of a hall by
which the front door was to be reached. Throughout more than half her
days she never came down stairs at all; but when she did so, preparatory
to being dragged about the parish lanes in the old family carriage, she
was let out at a small side-door; and so it came to pass that during the
absences of the lord of the mansion, the shutters were not even moved
from any of the lower windows. Under such circumstances there can be no
wonder that Lady Clavering regarded the place as a prison. "I wish you
could come upon it unawares, and see how gloomy it is," she said to him.
"I don't think you'd stand it alone for two days, let alone all your
life."

"I'll shut it up altogether if you like," said he.

"And where am I to go?" she asked.

"You can go to Moor Hall if you please." Now Moor Hall was a small
house, standing on a small property belonging to Sir Hugh, in that part
of Devonshire which lies north of Dartmoor, somewhere near the
Holsworthy region, and which is perhaps as ugly, as desolate, and as
remote as any part of England. Lady Clavering had heard much of Moor
Hall, and dreaded it as the heroine, made to live in the big grim castle
low down among the Apennines, dreads the smaller and grimmer castle
which is known to exist somewhere higher up in the mountains.

"Why couldn't I go to Brighton?" said Lady Clavering, boldly.

"Because I don't choose it," said Sir Hugh. After that she did go to the
rectory, and told Mrs. Clavering all her troubles. She had written to
her sister, having, however, delayed the doing of this for two or three
days, and she had not at this time received an answer from Lady Ongar.
Nor did she hear from her sister till after Sir Hugh had left her. It
was on the day before his departure that she went to the rectory,
finding herself driven to this act of rebellion by his threat of Moor
Hall. "I will never go there unless I am dragged there by force," she
said to Mrs. Clavering.

"I don't think he means that," said Mrs. Clavering. "He only wants to
make you understand that you'd better remain at the Park."

"But if you knew what a house it is to be all alone in!"

"Dear Hermione, I do know! But you must come to us oftener, and let us
endeavor to make it better for you."

"But how can I do that? How can I come to his uncle's house, just
because my own husband has made my own