Her heart quickened at the bare thought. How gladly would she set herself to make a living when once this burden had been lifted from her!
But she would not relinquish it without his sanction. She would be faithful to the last, true to that bargain she had struck with him so long ago. Yet surely he could not refuse it. She was convinced that he hated her.
Again she felt that strange new life thrilling in her veins. Again she felt herself almost young. To be free! To be free! To choose her own friends without fear; to live her own life in peace; to know no further tumults or petty tyrannies—to be free!
The prospect dazzled her. She lifted her face and gasped for breath.
Then, hearing a sound at her door, she turned.
A white-faced servant stood on the threshold. "If you please, my lady, your coat is in a dreadful state. I was afraid there must have been an accident."
Anne stared at the woman for a few seconds with the dazed eyes of one suddenly awakened.
"Yes," she said slowly at length. "There was—an accident. Mr. Nap Errol was—hurt while skiing."
The woman looked at her with frank curiosity, but there was that about her mistress at the moment that did not encourage inquiry or comment.
She stood for a little silent; then, "What had I better do with the coat, my lady?" she asked diffidently.