Anne Hereford: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

And only the sorrow of others

Throws its shadow over me."

Rather boisterously the door was opened, and Mrs. Penn came in. Her hair was decidedly of a more glowing red than usual; but her light green gown of damask silk, her point-lace lappets thrown behind, her gold ornaments, ay, and herself, were altogether handsome. Mr. Chandos rose.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said, "for entering so unceremoniously. Hearing the piano, I thought Miss Hereford was alone."

I turned round on the music-stool and sat facing the room. Mr. Chandos handed her a chair.

"Thank you," she said, hesitating to take it. "Mrs. Chandos is in the west wing: but perhaps I shall be intruding if I remain?"

"Not at all," replied Mr. Chandos. "Miss Hereford may be glad of your company. I am going to the west wing myself."

"Have you found your manuscript, Mr. Chandos?"

"What manuscript?"

She paused a moment. "I heard yesterday you had lost one. When Emma came in about her housemaid's duties last evening, she mentioned it."