At last she fell asleep, and slept long and soundly.  Her maid went to call her, but finding it difficult to wake her, left her asleep, and did not return until breakfast was over.  Then finding her still asleep she became a little anxious, and meeting mistress Amanda, told her she was afraid mistress Dorothy was ill.  But mistress Amanda was herself sleepy and cross, and gave her a sharp answer, whereupon the girl went to lady Broughton.  She, however, being on her way to morning mass, for it was Sunday, told her to let mistress Dorothy have her sleep out.

The noise of horses’ hoofs upon the paving of the stone court roused her, and then in came the sounds of the organ from the chapel.  She rose confounded, and hurrying to the window drew back the curtain.  The same moment lord Herbert walked from the hall into the fountain-court in riding dress, followed by some forty or fifty officers, the noise of whose armour and feet and voices dispelled at once the dim Sabbath feeling that hung vapour-like about the place.  They gathered around the white horse, leaning or sitting on the marble basin, some talking in eager groups, others folding their arms in silence, listening, or lost heedless in their own thoughts, while their leader entered the staircase door at the right-hand corner of the western gate, the nearest way to his wife’s apartment of the building.

Now Dorothy had gone to sleep in perplexity, and all through her dreams had been trying to answer the question what course she should take with regard to the nocturnal intrusion.  If she told lady Margaret she could but go with it to the marquis, and he was but just recovering from an attack of the gout, and ought not to be troubled except it were absolutely necessary.  Was it, or was it not, necessary?  Or was there no one else to whom she might with propriety betake herself in her doubt—­lord Charles or Dr. Bayly?  But here now was lord Herbert come back, and doubt there was none any more.  She dressed herself in tremulous haste, and hurried to lady Margaret’s room, where she hoped to see him.  No one was there, and she tried the nursery, but finding only Molly and her attendant, returned to the parlour, and there seated herself to wait, supposing lady Margaret and he had gone together to morning service.

They had really gone to the oak parlour, whither the marquis generally made his first move after an attack that had confined him to his room; for in the large window of that parlour, occupying nearly the whole side of it towards the moat, he generally sat when well enough to be about and take cognizance of what wa’s going on; and there they now found him.

‘Welcome home, Herbert!’ he said, kindly, holding out his hand.  ’And how does my wild Irishwoman this morning?  Crying her eyes out because her husband is come back, eh?—­But, Herbert, lad, whence is all that noise of spurs and scabbards—­and in the fountain court, too?  I heard them go clanking and clattering through the hall like a torrent of steel!  Here I sit, a poor gouty old man, deserted of my children and servants—­all gone to church—­to serve a better Master—­not a page or a maid left me to send out to see and bring me word what is the occasion thereof!  I was on the point of hobbling to the door myself when you came.’