"I beg your ladyship's pardon," the old man said.
He was standing close behind her. There was an air of subdued importance about him. He was grave to severity.
But Anne did not look at him very critically. "I shall not want any tea," she said. "I will dine at eight in my sitting-room as usual. Is everything in readiness, Dimsdale? Is Sir Giles's room just as it should be?"
"Yes, my lady."
Anne rose and quietly closed the piano. She wondered why Dimsdale lingered, and after a moment it struck her that he had something to say. She took up her gloves and turned round to him.
"No one has been, I suppose?"
"No one, my lady."
"Are there any letters?"
"No letters, my lady."
"Then—" Anne paused, and for the first time looked at the old servant attentively. "Is anything the matter, Dimsdale?" she asked.