n Janet had been about three weeks at Deepley Walls, she
was summoned to the door by one of the servants, and found there a tall,
thin, middle-aged man, dressed in plain clothes, and having all the
appearance of a discharged soldier.

"I have come a long way, miss," he said to Janet, carrying a finger to
his forehead, "in order to see Lady Chillington and have a little
private talk with her."

"I am afraid that her ladyship will scarcely see you, unless you can
give her some idea of the business that you have called upon."

"My name, miss, is Sergeant John Nicholas. I served formerly in India,
where I was body-servant to her ladyship's son, Captain Charles
Chillington, who died there of cholera nearly twenty years ago, and I
have something of importance to communicate."

Janet made the old soldier come in and sit down in the hall while she
took his message to Lady Chillington. Her ladyship was not yet up, but
was taking her chocolate in bed, with a faded Indian shawl thrown round
her shoulders. She began to tremble violently the moment Janet delivered
the old soldier's message, and could scarcely set down her cup and
saucer. Then she began to cry, and to kiss the hem of the Indian shawl.
Janet went softly out of the room and waited. She had never even heard
of this Captain Charles Chillington, and yet no mere empty name could
have thus affected the stern mistress of Deepley Walls. Those few tears
opened up quite a new view of Lady Chillington's character. Janet began
to see that there might be elements of tragedy in the old woman's life
of which she knew nothing: that many of the moods which seemed to her so
strange and inexplicable might be so merely for want of the key by which
alone they could be rightly read.

Presently her ladyship's gong sounded. Janet went back into the room,
and found her still sitting up in bed, sipping her chocolate with a
steady hand. All traces of tears had vanished: she looked even more
stern and repressed than usual.

"Request the person of whom you spoke to me a while ago to wait," she
said. "I will see him at eleven in my private sitting-room."

So Sergeant Nicholas was sent to get his breakfast in the servants'
room, and wait till Lady Chillington was ready to receive him.

At eleven precisely he was summoned to her ladyship's presence. She
received him with stately graciousness, and waved him to a chair a yard
or two away. She was dressed for the day in one of her stiff brocade