A carriage with a pair of horses was coming along the road from
Ambleside.
Lady Maulevrier stood and watched until the carriage drew up at the
lodge gate, and then, when the gate had been opened, slowly ascended the
winding drive to the house.
She expected no visitor; indeed, there was no one likely to come to her
from the direction of Ambleside. Her heart began to beat heavily, with
the apprehension of coming evil. What kind of evil she knew not. Bad
news about her granddaughter, perhaps, or about Maulevrier. And yet that
could hardly be. Evil tidings of that kind would have reached her by
telegram.
Perhaps it was Maulevrier himself. His movements were generally erratic.
Lady Maulevrier hurried back to the house. She went through the
conservatory, where the warm whiteness of azalia, and spirea, and arum
lilies contrasted curiously with the cold white snow out of doors, to
the hall, where a stranger was standing talking to the butler.
He was a man of foreign appearance, wearing a cloak lined with sables,
and a sable cap, which he removed as Lady Maulevrier approached.
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