He went towards the end of the corridor, keeping Mary well
behind him; but Mary did not mean to lose the opportunity of renewing
her acquaintance with Steadman's uncle.
'I hope you are better, poor old soul,' she murmured, gently, lovingly
almost, nestling at her husband's side.
'What, is it you?' cried the old man, tremulous with joy.
'Oh, I have been looking for you--looking--looking--waiting, waiting for
you. I have been hoping for you every hour and every minute. Why didn't
you come to me, cruel girl?'
'I tried with all my might,' said Mary, 'but people blocked up the door
in the stables, and they wouldn't let me go to you; and I have been
rather busy for the last fortnight,' added Mary, blushing in the
darkness, 'I--I--am married to this gentleman.'
'Married! Ah, that is a good thing. He will take care of you, if he is
an honest man.'
'I thought he was an honest man, but he has turned out to be an earl,'
answered Mary, proudly. 'My husband is Lord Hartfield.'
'Hartfield--Hartfield,' the old man repeated, feebly.
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