The driver, obeying some directions of Mr. Ingelow, turned up a shady green lane ending in a high gate-way.
They entered the gate-way and drove up through a long avenue of waving trees to a square, fair mansion of gleaming white—a large wooden structure with intensely green blinds, all closely shut.
Mollie sat and looked in speechless expectation. Mr. Ingelow, volunteering no explanation, assisted her out, desired cabby to wait, opened the door with a latch-key, and ushered Mollie in.
The entrance-hall was very much like any other entrance-hall; so, likewise, was the broad stair-way; so, also, the upper landing.
It was only when Mr. Ingelow, pausing before one of the doors in the second hall, spoke, that Mollie received her first shock.
"You will enter here, Mollie, and wait. Prepare yourself for a great surprise—a terrible surprise, perhaps."
He bowed and left her, passing into another room, and closing the door.
All in an agitated flutter, Mollie opened her door and entered. But on the threshold she paused, with a shrill cry of wonder, terror, and doubt; for the padded walls and floor, the blind windows, the lighted lamp, the bed, the furniture, were all recognized in a moment.
It was the room where she had been first imprisoned—where she had consented to marry the masked man.
A quiet figure rose from a chair under the lamp and faced her with a courtesy. It was the girl who had lured her from her home—Sarah Grant.