Their approach had been seen, for scarcely had they set foot on the flagstone, and before they had time to raise a hand to the massive iron knocker, which was covered with rust, than the door was opened by a fat-faced, stupid girl dressed in brown but with a tolerably neat cap and apron.
Without inquiring their business and without speaking she signed that the two gentlemen should enter, and conducted them to a room to the left of the cheerless hall. Here she intimated that they were to wait and that the mistress would soon come to them, after which she retired sullenly and closed the door after her. What with her looks and the gloom of the room and the closing of the door, the visitors felt as though they had been bestowed in a dungeon. Anything more dismal can scarcely be conceived.
"Oh, Lord!" ejaculated Vernon with dismay, looking round at the old-fashioned furniture and the grimly-red colouring of the decorations, somewhat faded, it is true. "Within is worse than without. I should commit suicide in such a place. No wonder Francis Hest found blackmailing a more cheerful pursuit. He ought to have----"
"Hush!" said Towton sharply, and arrested Vernon's speech as the door opened to admit the mistress of the mansion. Miss Hest looked graver than she had done at "Rangoon," and more handsome than ever in her imperial, masterful way. Vernon marvelled to see how much she resembled her brother, although the disfiguring cicatrice was absent. In her plain black dress, slashed with deep orange, Miss Hest looked like a Spanish beauty, and in the damp, secluded mansion she seemed to flourish as healthily as though she dwelt in perpetual sunshine. With a smile she came forward and greeted her visitors in a most cordial manner.
"I am very glad to see you both," said Frances, sitting down when formal greetings had passed, "and especially you, Colonel Towton, as I am anxiously waiting for your promised verbal answer to my letter."
"I shall explain why I did not write you with pleasure," said the Colonel gravely, "although my explanation is painful. You may even refuse to believe me, Miss Hest."
She looked alarmed and her lips twitched nervously.
"Francis is all right, I hope?" she inquired apprehensively. "His letter and the Deed of Gift alarmed me. I think he must be crazy."
"I don't think so," rejoined Towton drily, "but before explaining, may I ask how Miss Dimsdale is keeping?"
Frances shook her head dejectedly. "The death of her father is still preying on her mind, and nothing I can say or do will make her cheerful."