eshold.

The maid came forward respectfully, but without enthusiasm.

"Her ladyship has not been here to-day, madam. Can I attend to you,
madam, until your maid arrives?"

Clodagh stood very still. She was conscious of a horrible, inordinate
disappointment; but aware that the servant's eyes were still upon her,
she rallied her self-control.

"Thanks!" she said. "I shan't want anything but a cup of tea. Bring me
some tea to my own room. Did Lady Frances Hope leave no message?"

"No message, madam."

The maid hesitated for an instant longer; then, feeling herself
dismissed, moved noiselessly away to the servant's quarters.

Left alone, Clodagh stood irresolute. This was her home! Her eyes
wandered round the hall, from the walls of which the pictures of the
former tenant looked down as though they criticised the intruder. This
was her home coming! A home coming devoid of one friendly hand, one
welcoming word! Unable to quell the passion of loneliness that swelled
within her, she turned blindly and opened the door that stood nearest
to her.

It was the dining-room that she had chanced upon--a charming
white-panelled room, furnished with Sheraton furniture. But in her
present mood, its graceful severity failed to please her; to her lonely
gaze it had an uninhabited look--it seemed almost to resemble a very
perfect room upon the stage. Drawing back hastily, she closed the door;
and, moving down the hall, entered another room.

This proved to be her own bedroom--a bright, high-ceiled apartment
decorated and furnished in old French fashion and possessing two large
windows, looking upon Hyde Park. But here again she was confronted by
the sensation of unfamiliarity. And as she paused just inside the door,
looking from the long windows to the stately bed, she was suddenly and
completely dominated by her feelings. In a tempestuous wave of emotion,
her hunger for happiness rose menacingly, while the tide of her
philosophy suddenly ebbed. In that moment, as she stood alone in the
wide room, she swayed between trust in her own heart and faith in the
world's healing power. Then, as so frequently happens, the world
snatched the laurels before they had been held out.

With the same unmoved demeanour, the maid who had admitted her,
appeared at the door.

"If you please, madam, the housemaid tells me that her ladyship _did_
send a note for you this morning. You'll find it on the
dressing-table."

At the woman's words, Cloda