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'
'Lady Mary, be good enough to remember to whom you are speaking,' said
her ladyship, with a frown. 'And now please go, and tell some one to
send Steadman to me.'
Mary retired without a word, gave Lady Maulevrier's message to a footman
in the corridor, slipped off to her room, put on her sealskin hat and
jacket, took her staff and went out for a long ramble. The hills and
valleys were still white. It had been a long, cold winter, and spring
was still far off--February had only just begun.
Lady Maulevrier's couch had been wheeled into the morning-room--that
luxurious room which was furnished with all things needful to her quiet
life, her books, her favourite colours, her favourite flowers, every
detail studiously arranged for her pleasure and comfort. She was wheeled
into this room every day at noon. When the day was bright and sunny her
couch was placed near the window: and when the day was dull and grey the
couch was drawn close to the low hearth, which flashed and glittered
with brightly coloured tiles and artistic brass.


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