He read the paper with a bewildered look, which changed to something like consternation in the end. He flung the door wide open, and, retreating down the entrance-hall, unlocked a door which led to the south wing.
"You will find the office in yonder," he said, pointing through the door. "I don't know what condition it is in, for no one has entered it, that I know of, for years."
The party passed in, all except Rose, who remained to question the man. But her distress was so great that it took away her voice.
"Well, what is it you want?" he asked, with a tone of kindness, for the agitation in her lovely face impressed even him.
"Tell me her name. The lady of the house, I mean."
"And what good if I do? She's nobody now—that is to any one but us. What on earth is her name to you?"
"I think—I fear—ah, sir, she may be my own mother."
"What is your name?"
"Mason."
"That is not her name, anyhow; but the other name—is it Rose?"