That was the discreet story my lady heard, and which she was disposed to treat with calm surprise.

Baby was safe, and it had ended in nothing; the madwoman was being properly cared for.

Lady Kingsland quietly dismissed the incident altogether before the end of dinner.
The hours of the evening wore on--very long hours to the lord of Kingsland Court, seated at the head of his table, dispensing his hospitalities and trying to listen to the long stories of Mr.Carlyon and the rector.
It was worse in the drawing-room, with the lights and the music, and his stately wife at the piano, and Lady Helen at his side, prattling with little Mildred over a pile of engravings.

All the time, in a half-distracted sort of way, his thoughts were wandering to the sexton's cottage and the woman dying therein--the woman he had thought dead years ago--dying there in desolation and misery--and here the hours seemed strung on roses.
It was all over at last.

The guests were gone, the baby baronet slept in his crib, and Lady Kingsland had gone to her chamber.