The girl slid out of bed and dressed herself hurriedly, though eleven o'clock had only just struck and she had plenty of time.

Perhaps she thought that if she hesitated any longer she might alter her mind and not be married after all.
Despite her haste she was not neglectful of herself.

Now and again she glanced at the little mirror over which the girls squabbled daily, smoothed her rebellious hair and settled the Nithsdale hood of her cloak coquettishly.

Then she noiselessly crept from the room, flitted down the staircase and was at the hall door shooting back its heavy bolts--fortunately always kept well greased--and lifting the massive chain which stretched across the centre.

Street doors were well guarded and ground floor windows barred in those days, and not without reason.
The moon was still shining brightly and Lavinia drew her hood closer over her face, though there was little need, for the fields were deserted.