ut no words passed till, rousing herself, Lady Gernon sought to remove
any strange impression her utterances might have made--sought, but in
vain, for she had unwittingly sown seeds that had already begun to
germinate, striking root deeply in her husband's breast, soon to
flourish for ill in a way that should defy her utmost efforts to uproot
them.

Book 1, Chapter XII.

FOOD FOR SUSPICION.

"Who?" exclaimed Mrs Norton, aghast, as her servant hurriedly made an
announcement.

"Sir Murray and Lady Gernon. I saw the carriage come in at the lower
gate. There they are, ma'am," said the girl, as the grating of wheels
upon the drive preceded a loud peal at the bell.

"For Heaven's sake be calm, Philip!" exclaimed Mrs Norton, as she saw
him turn ghastly pale, all save the great scar upon his face, which
seemed to glow and throb.

"Not at home! We can't see them!" he exclaimed hoarsely.

"Too late," she said, unwittingly giving him another pang, as she quoted
his despairing words of the day when he had last seen Marion. "But,
Philip, love, dear husband, recollect yourself," she whispered
imploringly; and then, trying to recover her composure, she rose as Sir
Murray and Lady Gernon entered the room--the former courtly and at ease,
the latter to run to Ada, throw her arms round her neck, and kiss her
fondly, holding her for a few moments to her throbbing breast, while,
overcome by the warmth of the greeting, Mrs Norton as lovingly returned
the embrace.

To her great delight, though, as she raised her eyes from her cousin, it
was to see that, quite composed and courteously, Philip Norton had
advanced to meet his guest, they had shaken hands, and Norton had now
turned to greet Marion.

Ada's heart palpitated, and she hardly dared watch her husband, but
turned to look at Sir Murray, who was narrowly scanning every glance and
act. But Lady Gernon's greeting of her old lover was graceful, kind,
and yet dignified; her every word and look was unimpeachable, and Ada
Norton's agitation gave place to a feeling of thankfulness as she saw
her husband take Marion's hand without a shade crossing his countenance,
press it slightly in a frank greeting, and then place for her a chair;
when, apparently himself relieved, Sir Murray engaged his wife's cousin
in conversation, his old stiff, courtly manner being more proud and
polished than ever, as he talked of their long absence, the changes that
had taken place, expressing, too, a h