Faith parted her lips as if in consternation at possibilities.  Ethelberta, having already become an influence in Christopher’s system, might soon become more—­an indestructible fascination—­to drag him about, turn his soul inside out, harrow him, twist him, and otherwise torment him, according to the stereotyped form of such processes.

They were interrupted by the opening of a door.  A servant entered and came up to them.

‘This is for you, I believe, sir,’ he said.  ‘Two guineas;’ and he placed the money in Christopher’s hand.  ’Some breakfast will be ready for you in a moment if you like to have it.  Would you wish it brought in here; or will you come to the steward’s room?’

‘Yes, we will come.’  And the man then began to extinguish the lights one by one.  Christopher dropped the two pounds and two shillings singly into his pocket, and looking listlessly at the footman said, ’Can you tell me the address of that lady on the lawn?  Ah, she has disappeared!’

‘She wore a dress with blue flowers,’ said Faith.

’And remarkable bright in her manner?  O, that’s the young widow, Mrs—­what’s that name—­I forget for the moment.’

‘Widow?’ said Christopher, the eyes of his understanding getting wonderfully clear, and Faith uttering a private ejaculation of thanks that after all no commandments were likely to be broken in this matter.  ‘The lady I mean is quite a girlish sort of woman.’

’Yes, yes, so she is—­that’s the one.  Coachman says she must have been born a widow, for there is not time for her ever to have been made one.  However, she’s not quite such a chicken as all that.  Mrs. Petherwin, that’s the party’s name.’

‘Does she live here?’

’No, she is staying in the house visiting for a few days with her mother-in-law.  They are a London family, I don’t know her address.’

‘Is she a poetess?’

’That I cannot say.  She is very clever at verses; but she don’t lean over gates to see the sun, and goes to church as regular as you or I, so I should hardly be inclined to say that she’s the complete thing.  When she’s up in one of her vagaries she’ll sit with the ladies and make up pretty things out of her head as fast as sticks a-breaking.  They will run off her tongue like cotton from a reel, and if she can ever be got in the mind of telling a story she will bring it out that serious and awful that it makes your flesh creep upon your bones; if she’s only got to say that she walked out of one door into another, she’ll tell it so that there seems something wonderful in it.  ’Tis a bother to start her, so our people say behind her back, but, once set going, the house is all alive with her.  However, it will soon be dull enough; she and Lady Petherwin are off to-morrow for Rookington, where I believe they are going to stay over New Year’s Day.’

‘Where do you say they are going?’ inquired Christopher, as they followed the footman.