I hope you will bear this in mind, Mary, if Maulevrier should ever bring him here again.' 'He is never likely to come back again.

He suffered too much; he was treated too badly in this house.' 'Lady Mary, be good enough to remember to whom you are speaking,' said her ladyship, with a frown.

'And now please go, and tell some one to send Steadman to me.' Mary retired without a word, gave Lady Maulevrier's message to a footman in the corridor, slipped off to her room, put on her sealskin hat and jacket, took her staff and went out for a long ramble.

The hills and valleys were still white.

It had been a long, cold winter, and spring was still far off--February had only just begun.
Lady Maulevrier's couch had been wheeled into the morning-room--that luxurious room which was furnished with all things needful to her quiet life, her books, her favourite colours, her favourite flowers, every detail studiously arranged for her pleasure and comfort.