During the preceding day she had been so absorbed in the contemplation of her newly-acquired treasures in jewelry and money that she had scarcely thought of what might then be going on at Castle Lone.
Now she wondered what happened there; whether the marriage had failed to take place; but, of course, she said to herself, it had failed.

Lord Arondelle would never commit bigamy--but _how_ had it failed?
What had been made to happen to prevent it from going on?
And what had the bride and her friends said or thought?
Above all, why had Lord Arondelle, married to herself as she fully believed him to be, _why_ had Lord Arondelle allowed the affair to go so far, even to the wedding-morning, when the wedding-feast was prepared, and the wedding guests arrived?
It must have been done to mortify and humiliate those city strangers who sat in his father's seat, she thought.
Oh, but she would have given a great deal to have seen her hated rival's face on that wedding-morning when no wedding took place?
No doubt "John" would tell her all about it when he arrived.

And oh! How impatient she became for his arrival! Her reflections were interrupted by the entrance of the housekeeper with a cup of tea in one hand and the _Times_ in the other.
"Good morning, ma'am.

And hoping you find yourself well this morning! Here is your tea, ma'am.

And here is the paper, ma'am.