she heard it she felt at once that her dominion was gone.  She had based everything on the growing inferiority of her husband’s position, and now he was about to have all his glory back again!  She had inveighed against gentlemen from the day of her marriage,—­and here he was, again to be immersed up to his eyes in the affairs of a gentleman.  And then she had been so wrong about Goarly, and Lord Rufford had been so much better a client!  And ready money had been so much more plentiful of late, owing to poor John Morton’s ready-handed honesty!  She had very little to say about it when Mary packed her boxes and was taken in Mr. Runciman’s fly to Bragton.

Since the old days, the old days of all, since the days to which Reginald had referred when he asked her to pass over the bridge with him, she had never yet walked about the Bragton grounds.  She had often been to the house, visiting Lady Ushant; but she had simply gone thither and returned.  And indeed, when the house had been empty, the walk from Dillsborough to the bridge and back had been sufficient exercise for herself and her sisters.  But now she could go whither she listed and bring her memory to all the old spots.  With the tenacity as to household matters which characterised the ladies of the country some years since, Lady Ushant employed all her mornings and those of her young friend in making inventories of everything that was found in the house; but her afternoons were her own, and she wandered about with a freedom she had never known before.  At this time Reginald Morton was up in London and had been away nearly a week.  He had gone intending to be absent for some undefined time, so that Lady Ushant and Mrs. Hopkins were free from all interruption.  It was as yet only the middle of March and the lion had not altogether disappeared; but still Mary could get out.  She did not care much for the wind; and she roamed about among the leafless shrubberies, thinking,—­ probably not of many things,—­meaning always to think of the past, but unable to keep her mind from the future, the future which would so soon be the present.  How long would it be before the coming of that stately dame?  Was he in quest of her now?  Had he perhaps postponed his demand upon her till fortune had made him rich?  Of course she had no right to be sorry that he had inherited the property which had been his almost of right; but yet, had it been otherwise, might she not have had some chance?  But, oh, if he had said a word to her, only a word more than he had spoken already,—­a word that might have sounded like encouragement to others beside herself, and then have been obliged to draw back because of the duty which he owed to the property, how much worse would that have been!  She did own to herself that the squire of Bragton should not look for his wife in the house of a Dillsborough attorney.  As she thought of this a tear ran down her cheek and trickled down on to the wooden rail of the little bridge.