At sight of Lord Hartfield and his wife she looked a little more frightened than usual.
'Goodness gracious, Lady Mary! how ever did you come here?' she gasped, not yet having quite realised the fact that Mary had been promoted.
'We came to please Steadman's uncle—he brought us in here,' Mary answered, quietly.
'But where did you find him?'
'In the corridor—just by her ladyship's room.'
'Then he must have taken the key out of Steadman's pocket, or Steadman must have left it about somewhere,' muttered Mrs. Steadman, as if explaining the matter to herself, rather than to Mary. 'My poor husband is not the man he was. And so you met him in the corridor, and he brought you in here. Poor old gentleman! He gets madder and madder every day.'
'There is method in his madness,' said Lord Hartfield. 'He talked very much like sanity just now. Has your husband had the charge of him long?'
Mrs. Steadman answered somewhat confusedly.
'A goodish time, sir. I can't quite exactly say—time passes so quiet in a place like this. One hardly keeps count of the years.'
'Forty years, perhaps?'