"Very likely!" replied Cora, who was too much disturbed to set the old man right.
She left the breakfast parlor, and went up stairs to superintend in person the preparation for the comfort of the expected guest.
CHAPTER XII.
THE SIREN AND THE DESPOT.
That May night was clear and cool. The sky was brilliant with stars, sparkling and flashing from the pure, dark blue empyrean.
In the house it was chilly, so Cora had caused fires to be built in all the grates.
The drawing room at Rockhold presented a very attractive appearance, with its three chandeliers of lighted wax candles, its cheerful fire of sea coal, its warm crimson and gold coloring of carpets and curtains, and its luxurious easy chairs, sofas and ottomans, its choice pictures, books, bronzes and so forth. In the small dining room the table was set for dinner, in the best spare room all was prepared for its expected occupant.
Cora, in her widow's cap and dress, sat in an arm chair before the drawing room fire, awaiting the arrival. Half past eight had been the hour named by her grandfather for their coming. But a few minutes after the clock had struck, the sound of carriage wheels was heard on the avenue approaching the house.
Old Jason opened the hall door just as the vehicle drew up and stopped.