When she got in she called
Catherine to her.
"Kate, the girl you saw hiding in the avenue has come to live at the
lodge."
"Mother!"
"I have seen her and spoken to her, my dear daughter. She is nothing
either to you or me. Take no notice of her."
"Very well, mother."
Meanwhile, in her little parlor, in the old lodge, Josephine stood with
her hands clasped, and fiery lights of anger, disappointment, pain,
flashing from her eyes. Were that woman's words true? Had Loftus Bertram
gone away? If so, if indeed he had left because she had arrived,
then--Her eyes flashed once more, and with so wicked a light that Mrs.
Tester, who, unobserved, had come into the room, left it again in a
fright. She thought Josephine Hart looked dangerous. She was right. No
one could be more dangerous if she chose.
CHAPTER XVI.
A BRITISH MERCHANT.
Soon after four that afternoon, Davis's tumble-down cab might have been
seen standing outside the gate of the Gray House. Immediately afterwards
the door was opened, and Mrs. Meadowsweet, in her rose-colored satin,
with a black lace shawl, and a bonnet to match made her appearance.
She stepped into the cab, and was followed by Beatrice, Jane, the little
maid, handing in after them a small band-box, which contained the cap
trimmed with Honiton lace.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170