‘Yes, miss, you ean; you can do me a great favour. I want to see Mrs. Heritage on most important business—important to her and to her husband. If you will let me go into the house and wait till she comes, I shall be glad.’
‘Will you step into the lodge?’ said Gertie, pointing to the open door.
The woman shrank back with a little start.
‘No, thank you,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘I’d—I’d rather not.’
Gertie thought it very funny that this strange woman should object to go into the lodge, and she was just going to ask her why she objected, when a loud bark was heard, and Lion came trotting along in front of the pony-carriage.
The squire sat by his wife’s side; but few who had known him in the old time would have recognized him now. He had aged terribly. His face was deeply lined, and his hair had gone almost white during his illness. His head was bent forward and his eyes were half closed as the chaise drove up to the lodge-gate. At the sound of Gertie’s voice he looked up, and saw the young woman talking to her.
In an instant the listless look upon his face vanished, his lips trembled, his face flushed angrily, and his dull eyes flashed.
‘Who’s this?’ he exclaimed angrily.
‘Some one who wishes to see Mrs. Heritage, ’answered Gertie, surprised at the squire’s manner.
‘Mrs. Heritage can’t see her, then,’ said the squire, taking the reins from Ruth and whipping the pony into a gallop.