At last, however, they came to a stop, and Maurice, looking out, found himself close to a lodge, from the window of which a bright gleam of light shone out across the rainy darkness.

In a minute a second light came from the opening door, the great gates rolled back, and the carriage passed on into the grounds.

There were large trees on both sides of the drive, just faintly visible as they swayed backwards and forwards, and then came an open space and the house itself.

There was a cheerful brightness there, showing a wide old-fashioned porch, and, within, a large hall where a lamp was burning.

Maurice hurried in to the porch, and had waited but a minute when a servant in a plain, sober-coloured livery came leisurely across the hall and opened the glass door, through which the visitor had been trying to get his first idea of the place and its inhabitants.
"Was Mr.Wynter in ?" "No." "Was he expected ?" "Not to-night, certainly--perhaps not to-morrow." "Mrs.Wynter ?" That was a guess.