Hill returned a defiant grunt by way of answer, and I brushed past Dr. Laken as he came along the gallery with another gentleman, who was dressed in the garb of a clergyman.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN IGNOMINIOUS EXIT.
The windows were thrown open to the bright morning air; the late autumn birds were singing, the trees were gently waving; even the gloomy pine-walk opposite had a ray of sunlight on it. Little thought I as I stood in the oak-parlour with my great happiness, little thought the servants as they went about their work, that some one lay dead in the west wing.
Breakfast waited on the table; the postman came with the letters; Hickens looked in to see if he might bring the urn. He waited on us far more than the rest did, although he was butler, knowing that Mr. Chandos liked it.
A stir in the hall at last: Mrs. Penn's voice speaking to Lizzy Dene. The tones were low, but they reached my ear.
"I cannot think you delivered that letter last evening, Lizzy. I ought to have received an answer long before this."
"Not deliver it, ma'am!" returned Lizzy, with every sound of surprise. "I gave it in to the young man at the door."
"Wait a moment, Lizzy: what a hurry you are in! Are you sure Mr. Edwin Barley was at home?"
"Of course I am not sure," returned Lizzy: and I pictured Mrs. Penn to myself at that moment: her cheeks flushing red, her eyes flashing fire.
"You deceitful woman! You told me last night Mr. Edwin Barley was at home!"