“And when did you come to Haymore?”
“Late last night.”
“You came straight here, then, expecting to find us at home, and found no one to receive you—except the servants, of course. I hope they made you comfortable. And, of course they told you that we were to be home to-night.”
“Yes, of course, thank you.”
“I am so glad you are here. And, oh, Mr. Walling, since you are here, will you please to tell me who all these strangers are and why they are here, and what, oh! what has reduced my husband to that condition? He looks as if he were struck with idiocy,” said Lamia with ill-concealed scorn and hatred.
Will Walling thought within himself that she would have little to suffer from wounded affections, whatever she might have to endure from humbled pride. Still, he pitied her, and answered gently:
“That group on the sofa, to whom your brother is speaking, consists of the Rev. Mr. Campbell, his wife and daughter, who are quite old friends of Mr. Leegh.”
Lamia had never heard the name of Jennie Montgomery’s parents. She scrutinized the group, and then remarked:
“That girl who is leaning on the elder woman’s shoulder reminds me strongly of some one whom I have seen somewhere, but I cannot remember where, for I cannot quite see her clearly at this distance. And who are the other people in the room?”
“They are all friends of Mr. Randolph Hay who knew him in California, before he came into his estate.”