The viscount left her side and hurried forward.  The door of the building was opened by a woman.

‘Have you prepared for us, as I directed?’

‘Yes, my lord; tea and coffee are both ready.’

’Never mind that now.  Lady Mountclere is ill; come and assist her indoors.  Tell the other woman to bring wine and water at once.’

He returned to Ethelberta.  She was better, and was sitting calmly on the bank.  She rose without assistance.

‘You may retire,’ he said to the woman who had followed him, and she turned round.  When Ethelberta saw the building, she drew back quickly.

‘Where is the other Lady Mountclere?’ she inquired.

‘Gone!’

‘She shall never return—­never?’

‘Never.  It was not intended that she should.’

‘That sounds well.  Lord Mountclere, we may as well compromise matters.’

‘I think so too.  It becomes a lady to make a virtue of a necessity.’

’It was stratagem against stratagem.  Mine was ingenious; yours was masterly!  Accept my acknowledgment.  We will enter upon an armed neutrality.’

’No.  Let me be your adorer and slave again, as ever.  Your beauty, dearest, covers everything!  You are my mistress and queen!  But here we are at the door.  Tea is prepared for us here.  I have a liking for life in this cottage mode, and live here on occasion.  Women, attend to Lady Mountclere.’

The woman who had seen Ethelberta in the morning was alarmed at recognizing her, having since been informed officially of the marriage:  she murmured entreaties for pardon.  They assisted the viscountess to a chair, the door was closed, and the wind blew past as if nobody had ever stood there to interrupt its flight.

* * * * *

Full of misgivings, Christopher continued to wait at the north gate.  Half-past seven had long since been past, and no Ethelberta had appeared.  He did not for the moment suppose the delay to be hers, and this gave him patience; having taken up the position, he was induced by fidelity to abide by the consequences.  It would be only a journey of two hours to reach Anglebury Station; he would ride outside with the driver, put her into the train, and bid her adieu for ever.  She had cried for help, and he had heard her cry.

At last through the trees came the sound of the Court clock striking eight, and then, for the first time, a doubt arose in his mind whether she could have mistaken the gate.  She had distinctly told Sol the west lodge; her note had expressed the north lodge.  Could she by any accident have written one thing while meaning another?  He entered the carriage, and drove round to the west gate.  All was as silent there as at the other, the meeting between Ethelberta and Lord Mountclere being then long past; and he drove back again.

He left the carriage, and entered the park on foot, approaching the house slowly.  All was silent; the windows were dark; moping sounds came from the trees and sky, as from Sorrow whispering to Night.  By this time he felt assured that the scheme had miscarried.  While he stood here a carriage without lights came up the drive; it turned in towards the stable-yard without going to the door.  The carriage had plainly been empty.