'I shall miss her dreadfully,' thought Mary, as she strolled listlessly
in the gardens, where the leaves where falling and the flowers fading.
'I wonder if she will see Mr. Hammond at Lady Kirkbank's?' mused Mary.
'If he were anything like a lover he would find out all about her visit,
and seize the opportunity of her being away from grandmother. But then
if he had been much of a lover he would have followed her to St. Bees.'
Lady Maulevrier sorely missed her favourite grandchild. In a life spent
in such profound seclusion, so remote from the busy interests of the
world, this beloved companionship had become a necessity to her. She had
concentrated her affections upon Lesbia, and the girl's absence made a
fearful blank. But her ladyship's dignity was not compromised by any
outward signs of trouble or loss.
She spent her mornings in her own room, reading and writing and musing
at her leisure; she drove or walked every fine afternoon, sometimes
alone, sometimes attended by Mary, who hated these stately drives and
walks. She dined _tete-a-tete_ with Mary, except on those rare occasions
when there were visitors--the Vicar and his wife, or some wandering star
from other worlds Mary lived in profound awe of her grandmother, but
was of far too frank a nature to be able to adapt her speech or her
manners to her ladyship's idea of feminine perfection.
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