“No, sir—we saw the 'Lightship' quite near us.”
“Still thinking of that dreadful night,” said her Ladyship, as she arranged two braids of her fair brown hair more becomingly on her forehead; and then turning to a very comely personage, who performed a series of courtesies, like minute guns, at intervals, added, “If you please, then, we'll retire to our apartment. Your housekeeper, I suppose, Mr. Cashel?”
“I conclude so,” said Roland; “but I am equally a stranger here with yourself.”
“Mrs. Moss, at your service, sir,” said the housekeeper, with another courtesy.
“Mrs. Moss, then,” said Roland, in an undertone, “I have only to remark that Lord and Lady Kilgoff must want for nothing here.”
“I understand, sir,” said Mrs. Moss; and whether the words, or the look that accompanied them, should bear the blame, but they certainly made Cashel look half angry, half ashamed.
“Then good-night—or good-morrow, I believe it should be,” said Lady Kilgoff. “I'm sure, in charity, we should not keep you from your bed a minute longer. You had a severe night outside.”
“Good-night—good-night, my Lord,” said Cashel; and the handsome form of the lady moved proudly on, while the servant assisted the poor decrepid husband slowly after.
Roland looked after them for an instant, and whether from some curiosity to see the possessions which called him master, or that he felt indisposed to sleep, he passed out into the lawn and stood some minutes gazing at the strange and somewhat incongruous pile before him.
Perhaps something of disappointment mingled with his thoughts—perhaps it was only that strange revulsion which succeeds to all long-excited expectation, when the moment of satisfying it has come, and speculation is at an end forever—but he was turning away, in half sadness, when he caught sight of a hand waving to him a salute from one of the windows. He had just time to answer the gesture, when the shutter was closed. There was one other saw the motion, and noted well the chamber from whence it came. Linton, awoke by the arrival of the carriage, had watched every step that followed, and now sat, with half-drawn curtains, eagerly marking everything that might minister to his jealous anger.