A scared-looking man-servant, who opened the door with the chain upon it, let her in as soon as he recognized who she was.
"It's a fearsome day," he said; "master's away, gone nobody knows where; and old Acton's poisoned himself.

Nobody dare tell Mrs.Sefton; but Madame knows.

She is in the dining-room, Miss Marlowe." Phebe found her, as she had done the day before, sitting in the oriel window; but the usually placid-looking little woman was in a state of nervous agitation.

As soon as she caught sight of Phebe's pitiful face she ran to her, and clasping her in her arms, burst into a passion of tears and sobs.
"My son!" she cried; "what can have become of him, Phebe?
Where can he be gone?
If he would only come home, all these people would be satisfied, and go away.

They don't know Mr.Clifford, but they know Roland; he is so popular.