"Ladies, I pray you go in," he urged, in strange agitation. "You must not
meet these--these Irishmen. Go back to the dining-room, I entreat you,
and remain in it."
But the curiosity of women--who can suppress it? They were as though they
heard not, and were pressing on to the door, when Val Elster dashed in
with a white face.
"Back, all of you! You must not stay here. This is no place or sight for
you. Anne," he added, seizing Miss Ashton's hand in peremptory entreaty,
"you at least know how to be calm. Get them away, and keep them out of
the hall."
"Tell me the worst," she implored. "I will indeed try to be calm. Who is
it those men are bringing here?"
"My dear brother--my dead brother. Madam," he continued to the
countess-dowager, who had now come out, dinner-napkin in hand, her curls
all awry, "you must not come here. Go back to the dining-room, all of
you."
"Not come here! Go back to the dining-room!" echoed the outraged dowager.
"Don't take quite so much upon yourself, Val Elster. The house is Lord
Hartledon's, and I am a free agent in it."
A shriek--an agonized shriek--broke from Lady Maude. In her suspense she
had stolen out unperceived, and lifted the covering of the rude bier, now
resting on the steps. The rays of the hall-lamp fell on the face, and
Maude, in her anguish, with a succession of hysterical sobs, came
shivering back to sink down at her mother's feet.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156