The cab which had passed Adela and her brother at a short distance from Wanley brought faces to the windows or door of almost every house as it rolled through the village street.  The direction in which it was going, the trunk on the roof, the certainty that it had come from Agworth station, suggested to everyone that young Eldon sat within.  The occupant bad, however, put up both windows just before entering the village, and sight of him was not obtained.  Wanley had abundant matter for gossip that evening.  Hubert’s return, giving a keener edge to the mystery of his so long delay, would alone have sufficed to wagging tongues; hut, in addition, Mrs. Mewling was on the warpath, and the intelligence she spread was of a kind to run like wildfire.

The approach to the Manor was a carriage-road, obliquely ascending the bill from a point some quarter of a mile beyond the cottages which once housed Belwick’s abbots.  Of the house scarcely a glimpse could be caught till you were well within the gates, so thickly was it embosomed in trees.  This afternoon it wore a cheerless face; most of the blinds were still down, and the dwelling might have been unoccupied, for any sign of human activity that the eye could catch.  There was no porch at the main entrance, and the heavy nail-studded door greeted a visitor somewhat sombrely.  On the front of a gable stood the words ‘Nisi Dominus.’

The vehicle drew up, and there descended a young man of pale countenance, his attire indicating long and hasty travel.  He pulled vigorously at the end of a hanging bell-chain, and the door was immediately opened by a man-servant in black.  Hubert, for he it was, pointed to his trunk, and, whilst it was being carried into the house, took some loose coin from his pocket.  He handed the driver a sovereign.

‘I have no change, sir,’ said the man, after examining the coin.  But Hubert had already turned away; he merely waved his hand, and entered the house.  For a drive of two miles, the cabman held himself tolerably paid.

The hall was dusky, and seemed in need of fresh air.  Hubert threw off his hat, gloves, and overcoat; then for the first time spoke to the servant, who stood in an attitude of expectancy.

‘Mrs. Eldon is at home?’

’At home, sir, but very unwell.  She desires me to say that she fears she may not be able to see you this evening.’

‘Is there a fire anywhere?’

‘Only in the library, sir.’

‘I will dine there.  And let a fire be lit in my bedroom.’

‘Yes, sir.  Will you dine at once, sir?’

‘In an hour.  Something light; I don’t care what it is.’

‘Shall the fire be lit in your bedroom at once, sir?’

’At once, and a hot bath prepared.  Come to the library and tell me when it is ready.’