Here, however, Lord Maulevrier's obstinacy came
into play. He would not endure another night at an hotel so near his own
house. He was sick to death of travelling, and wanted to be at rest
among comfortable surroundings.
'It was murder to bring me here,' he said to his wife. 'If I had gone to
Hastings I should have been a new man by this time. As it is I am a
great deal worse than when I landed.'
Everyone at the hotel noticed his lordship's white and haggard looks. He
had been known there as a young man in the bloom of health and strength,
and his decay was particularly obvious to these people.
'I saw death in his face,' the landlord said, afterwards.
Every one, even her ladyship's firmness and good sense, gave way before
the invalid's impatience. At three in the afternoon they left the hotel,
with four horses, to make the remaining nineteen miles of the way in one
stage. They had not been on the road half an hour before the snow began
to fall thickly, whitening everything around them, except the lake,
which showed a dark leaden surface at the bottom of the slope along the
edge of which they were travelling.
Pages:
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47