No fiat from without had bound
her; but love had brought her to his feet. There was something in him
which triumphed alike in her revolt and her submission.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in the cool drawing-room to which the green
persiennes gave
a pleasant foreign look, Lady Tranmore had been waiting for the maid's
return. She shrank from every sound in the house; from her own
reflection in Kitty's French mirrors; from her own thoughts most of all.
Lady Edith Manley--at Holland House--had been the most innocent of
gossips. A little lady who did no wrong herself--and thought no wrong of
others; as white-minded and unsuspicious as a convent child. "Poor Lady
Kitty! Something seemed to have gone wrong with the Alcots' coach, and
they were somehow divided from all their party. I can't remember exactly
what it was they said, but Mr. Cliffe was confident they would catch
their train. Though my boy--you remember my boy? they've just put him in
the eight!--thought they were running it
rather fine."
Then, five minutes later, in the supper-room, Lady Tranmore had run
across Madeleine Alcot's husband, who had given her in passing the whole
story of the frustrated expedition--Mrs.
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