Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

194 RAVENSHOE.
and gone to the races. This was so utterly the wrong article,
that Lady Ascot wrote a violent letter to the ex-inspector, of
such an extreme character, that he replied by informing her
ladyship that he had sent her letter to his lawyer. A very pretty
quarrel followed, which I have not time to describe.
No tidings of Charles! He had hidden himself too effectually! So the old woman wept and watched, - watched for her
darling who came not, and for the ruin that she saw settling
down upon her house like a dark cloud, that grew evermore
darker.
And little Mary had packed up her boxes and passed out of
the old house, with the hard, bitter world before her. Father
Mackworth had met her in the hall, and had shaken hands with
her in silence. He loved her, in his way, so much, that he cared
not to say anything. Cuthbert was outside, waiting to hand her
to her carriage. When she was seated he said, "I shall write
to you, Mary, for I can't say all I would." And then he opened
the door and kissed her affectionately; then the carriage went
on, and before it entered the wood, she had a glimpse of the gray
old house, and Cuthbert on the steps before the porch, bareheaded, waving his hand; then it was among the trees, and she
had seen the last of him forever; then she buried her face in her
hands, and knew, for the first time, perhaps, how well she had
loved him.
She was going, as we know, to be nursery-governess to the
orphan children of Lord Hainault's brother. She went straight
to London to assume her charge. It was very late when she
got to Paddington. One of Lord Hainault's carriages was waiting for her, and she was whirled through " the season" to Grosvenor Square. Then she had to walk alone into the great lighted
hall, with the servants standing right and left, and looking at
nothing, as well-bred servants are bound to do. She wished for
a moment that the poor little governess had been allowed to
come in a cab.
The groom of the chambers informed her that her ladyship
had gone out, and would not be home till late; that his lordship
was dressing; and that dinner was ready in Miss Corby's room
whenever she pleased.
So she went up. She did not eat much dinner; the steward'sroom boy in attendance had his foolish heart moved to pity by
seeing how poor an appetite she had, when he thought what he
could have done in that line too.
Presently she asked the lad where was the nursery. The
second door to the right. WVhen all was quiet she opened her
door, and thought she would go and see the children asleep. At
that moment the nursery-door opened and a tall, handsome, quiet