It could not be an invasion of the enemy. Carriage, harness, and servants were much too smart for that. But if the neighbours had found them out, and that this was the beginning of a series of visits, could anything in a small way be more annoying, and even dangerous? Here was a very necessary privacy violated, with what ulterior consequences who could calculate.
This was certainly Alice’s doing. Women are such headstrong, silly creatures!
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE VISITOR.
The carriage which Charles Fairfield had seen rounding the picturesque ruin of Gryce’s Mill, was that of Lady Wyndale. Mrs. Tarnley opened the door to her summons, and acting on her general instructions said “not at home.”
But good Lady Wyndale was not so to be put off. She had old Mildred to the side of the carriage.
“I know my niece will be glad to see me,” she said. “I’m Lady Wyndale, and you are to take this card in, and tell my niece, Mrs. Fairfield, I have come to see her.”
Mrs. Tarnley looked with a dubious scrutiny at Lady Wyndale, for she had no idea that Alice could have an aunt with a title and a carriage. On the whole, however, she thought it best to take the card in, and almost immediately it was answered by Alice, who ran out to meet her aunt and throw her arms about her neck, and led her into Carwell Grange.
“Oh! darling, darling! I’m so delighted to see you! It was so good of you to come. But how did you find me out?” said Alice, kissing her again and again.
“There’s no use, you see, in being secret with me. I made out where you were, though you meant to keep me quite in the dark, and I really don’t think I ought to have come near you, and I am very much affronted,” said kind old Lady Wyndale, a little high.
“But auntie, darling, didn’t you get my letter, telling you that we were married?” pleaded Alice.