"He will see me," said Mrs. Dolman. "Have the goodness to tell him that his sister has arrived, and please also see that my luggage is taken to my room—and oh, I say, wait one moment. What is the fare from Beaminster to Delaney Manor?"
The grave-looking footman and the somewhat surly driver of the cab exchanged a quick glance. Immediately afterwards the footman named eight shillings in a voice of authority.
"Preposterous!" said Mrs. Dolman, "but I suppose I must pay it, or, rather, you can pay it for me; I'll settle with you afterwards."
"Am I to acquaint my master that you have come, madam?"
"No; on second thoughts I should prefer to announce myself. Where did you say Mr. Delaney was?"
"In his private study."
"I know that room well. See that my luggage is taken to a bedroom, and pay the driver."
Mrs. Dolman entered the old house briskly. It felt quiet, remarkably quiet, seeing that there was a large staff of servants and four vigorous, healthy children to occupy it.
"Poor little orphans, I suppose they are dreadfully overcome," thought the good lady to herself. "Well, I am glad I have appeared on the scene. Poor David is just the sort of man who would forget everybody else when he is in a state of grief. Of course I know he was passionately attached to Evangeline, and she certainly was a charming, although quite incapable, creature. I suppose she was what would be termed 'a man's woman.' Now, I have never any patience with them, and when I think of those acres of land and—but, dear me! sometimes a matter-of-fact, plain body like myself is useful in an emergency. The emergency has arrived with a vengeance, and I am determined to take the fortress by storm."
The little lady trotted down one or two passages, then turned abruptly to her left, and knocked at a closed door. A voice said, "Come in." She opened the door and entered. A man was standing with his back to her in the deep embrasure of a mullioned window. His hands were clasped behind his back; he was looking fixedly out. The window was wide open.