Arriving with perfect punctuality, he was shown into Lady Ogram's drawing-room, and found Lady Ogram alone.

Artificial complexion notwithstanding, the stern old visage wore to-day a look as of nature all but spent.

At Lashmar's entrance, his hostess did not move; sunk together in her chair, head drooping forward, she viewed him from under her eyebrows: even to give her hand when he stood before her seemed almost too great an effort, and the shrivelled lips scarce made audible her bidding that he should be seated.
"You are well, I hope ?" said Dyce, feeling uncomfortable, but affecting to see nothing unusual in the face before him.
Lady Ogram nodded, impatiently.

There was a moment's silence; then, turning her gaze upon him, she said abruptly, in a harsh croak: "What are you waiting for ?" Lashmar felt a cold touch along his spine.

He thought the ghastly old woman had lost her senses, that she was either mad or delirious.