ar, certainly, he prospered. He found that his destination was
between four and five miles from the city, but it was perfectly well
known, and a carriage was soon ready to take him on.

The road seemed very long, as an unknown road travelled in darkness and
in haste generally does. The wind howled, and rattled the carriage
windows, the rain still dashed against the glass with every gust, and at
times the horses seemed scarcely able to keep on through the storm. At
last, however, they came to a stop, and Maurice, looking out, found
himself close to a lodge, from the window of which a bright gleam of
light shone out across the rainy darkness. In a minute a second light
came from the opening door, the great gates rolled back, and the
carriage passed on into the grounds. There were large trees on both
sides of the drive, just faintly visible as they swayed backwards and
forwards, and then came an open space and the house itself. There was a
cheerful brightness there, showing a wide old-fashioned porch, and,
within, a large hall where a lamp was burning. Maurice hurried in to the
porch, and had waited but a minute when a servant in a plain,
sober-coloured livery came leisurely across the hall and opened the
glass door, through which the visitor had been trying to get his first
idea of the place and its inhabitants.

"Was Mr. Wynter in?"

"No."

"Was he expected?"

"Not to-night, certainly--perhaps not to-morrow."

"Mrs. Wynter?" That was a guess. Maurice had never troubled himself till
then to think whether there _was_ a Mrs. Wynter.

"She was at home, but engaged."

Maurice hesitated a moment. "I must see her," he thought to himself, and
took heart again.

"I have made a long journey," he said, "to see Mr. Wynter; will you give
my card to your mistress, and beg of her to see me for a moment?"

The man took the card and led the visitor into a small room at one side
of the hall, where books and work were lying about as if it had been
occupied earlier in the day, but which was empty now. Then he shut the
door and carried the card into the drawing-room.

Mrs. Wynter had friends staying with her. There was a widow and her son
and daughter, and one or two young people besides, as well as all the
younger members of the Wynter family. The two elder ladies were having a
little comfortable chat over their work, and the others were gathered
round the piano, when Maurice's arrival was heard.

"Who can it be?" Mrs. Wynter