t was or was not herself. A second
glance, however, at the old woman's face, showed the withering hand
of time too strongly for him to doubt any farther.
The momentary suspense had made him gaze at the old woman intently,
and she had certainly done the same with regard to him. There was an
expression of wonder, of doubt, and yet of joy, in her countenance,
which he did not at all understand; and his surprise was still more
increased, when, upon his asking whether he could there obtain
shelter during the night, the woman exclaimed with a strong Irish
accent, "Oh, that you shall, and welcome a thousand times!"
"But I have two horses and my groom here," replied Wilton.
"Oh, for the horses and the groom," replied the woman, "I fear me,
boy, we can't take them in for ye; but he can go away up to the high
road, and in half a mile he'll come to the Three Cups, where he will
find good warm stabling enough."
"That will be the best way, I believe," replied Wilton; and turning
back to speak with the man for a moment, he gave him directions to go
to the little public house, to put up the horses, to get some repose,
and to be ready to return to London at four o'clock on the following
morning.
As soon as he had so done, he turned back again, and found the old
lady with her head thrust into the doorway of a room on the
right-hand side, saying in a loud tone--"It's himself, sure enough,
though!"
The moment she had spoken, he heard an exclamation, apparently in the
voice of Lord Sherbrooke; and, following a sign from the girl who had
opened the door, he went in, and found the room tenanted by four
persons, who had been brought together in intimate association, by
one of the strangest of those strange combinations in which fate some
times indulges.
Seated in a large arm-chair, with her cheek much paler than it had
been before, but still extremely beautiful, was the lady whom we must
now call Lady Sherbrooke. Her large dark eyes, full of light and
lustre, though somewhat shaded by a languid fall of the upper eyelid,
were turned towards the door as Wilton entered, and her fair
beautiful hand lay in that of her husband as he sat beside her.
On the opposite side of the room, with her fine face bearing but very
few traces of time's withering power, and her beautiful figure
falling into a line of exquisitely easy grace, sat the Lady Helen,
gazing on the other two, with her arm resting on a small work-table,
and her cheek supported by her hand.
Cast with apparent listless