But all these efforts ended in a sigh of despondency, and in brooding on
innocent delights forbidden, and a prospect which, to her youth and
inexperience, seemed a wilderness robbed of the sun.
Whilst she sat thus pensive and sad there came a sudden rush and clatter
of hoofs, and Miss Clifford and Walter Clifford reined up their horses
under the very window.
Mary started up delighted at the bare sight of Walter, but amazed and
puzzled. The next moment her quick intelligence told her this was some
daring manoeuvre or other, and her heart beat high.
Walter opened the door and stood beside it, affecting a cold ceremony.
"Miss Bartley, I have brought Miss Clifford to call on you at her
request. My own visit is to your father. Where shall I find him?"
"In his study," murmured Miss Bartley.
Walter returned, and the two ladies looked at each other steadily for one
moment, and took stock of one another's dress, looks, character, and
souls with supernatural rapidity. Then Mary smiled, and motioned her
visitor to a seat, and waited.
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