send her clothes to her new home, to await her arrival at it, especially a certain “light silk dress.”
“Not a thread of them,” cried the earl, bringing down his stick decisively when Jane spoke to him.
“She shall have no clothes sent from here.”
“But, papa, she has nothing to wear,” pleaded Jane. “She did not take with her so much as a pair of stockings to change.”
“So much the better,” fumed the earl. “Let her go barefoot.”
But Jane, considerate even for the offending Laura, and for the straits she would be put to without clothes, ventured to appeal to her father again in the course of the day. Not until evening would the earl unbend. And then, quite late, he suddenly announced that the things might go, and that the sooner the house was rid of them, the better.
It was eight o’clock then. Jane hastily put some things together, the light silk dress particularly named, and a few other articles that she deemed Laura might most need, and despatched Judith with them, charging her to see Lady Laura in private, and to explain how it was that the things had not been properly sent, and could not be, now, before the morrow. Hence it was that Judith stood in Mr. Carlton’s hall demanding to see its new mistress.
“They have not come yet,” was the reply of Hannah.
“Not come!” repeated Judith. “My lady told me they were to return by the seven-o’clock train.”
“And so they sent us word, and there’s the dinner-tea laid ready in the dining-room, but they haven’t come. The train’s in long ago, and it haven’t brought ’em.”
“Well,” said Judith, slowly, considering how much to say and how much not, “will you tell your lady that we were not able to send her things to-day—except just these few that I have brought—but that the rest will all be here to-morrow. I am sorry not to see her ladyship, because I had a private message for her from her sister.”
“I’ll tell her,” answered Hannah, in an ungracious, grumbling tone; for the advent of a new mistress in the house did not meet her approbation. “I think master might have said a word to us of what was going to be, afore he went away, and not have—what’s that?”
The noise of a carriage thundering up to the gate and stopping, scared their senses away. Evan opened the door at length, but not immediately; not until the bell had sent its echoes through the house.
They came into the hall; Mr. Carlton, and his young wife upon his arm. She wore two shoes now, and a beautiful Cashmere shawl, the latter the present of Mr. Carlton. He was a fond husband in this his first dream of passion. Mr. Bill Jupp’s information as to the train’s arrival was incorrect. It was true that the omnibus had come back, but it brought no passengers; it had waited as long as it could, and then had to return to convey back its customers to the nine-o’clock train. An accident, productive of no ill consequences save detention, had occurred to the seven-o’clock train containing Mr. Carlton and his wife, and this caused the delay.
She came in with her beaming face, laughing at something said by Mr. Carlton, and nodding affably to the servants by way of her first greeting to them. Very much surprised indeed did she look to see Judith standing in the background.
“Judith!” she exclaimed, “is it you?”
Judith came forward in her quiet, respectful manner. “Can I speak a word to you, my lady, if you please? Lady Jane charged me with it.”
Laura dropped Mr. Carlton’s arm and stared at her. The salutation was strange in her ears. “My lady!” “Lady Jane!” Had the world turned upside down, Laura Carlton had not been more surprised, more perplexed.
It must be remembered that she had known nothing of the late earl’s illness; when she quitted her home to fly with Mr. Carlton, he, Lord Oakburn, was being expected at Cedar Lodge. Mr. Carlton had said nothing to her of his surmised death, and during this wedding tour in the rather remote parts of Scotland, not a newspaper had fallen under her notice. Laura was therefore still in ignorance of all that had taken place.
“What did you say, Judith?” she asked, after a pause.
“Lady—Lady Jane sent you to me? Do you mean my sister?”
“Yes, my lady. She wished me to say a word to yourself.”
No woman living had greater tact than Laura Carlton. Not before her new servants would she betray her perplexity at the strange title, or give the slightest mark of indication that she did not know how it could belong to her. From the open door of the dining-room, on the right of the hall as Laura had entered, streamed the light of fire and lamp, and she stepped into it followed by Judith; Mr. Carlton had turned back, after bringing her in, to see what had been left in the post-carriage.
“Judith! you called my sister Lady Jane. Has anything happened to Lord Oakburn?”
It would have been Judith’s turn to stare