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To-morrow morning she would go back to Powyss Place and tell Lady Helena; after that Her thoughts broke to-night she could not look beyond. The misery, the shame, the horrible scandal, the loneliness, the whole wreck of life that was to come, she could not feel as yet. She knew what she would do to-morrow after that all was a blank. What a lovely night it was! What were they doing at home?
It was half-past twelve, by all the clocks and watches of Powyss Place. Miss Stuart sat alone, in the pleasant boudoir or sitting-room, assigned her, her foot on an ottoman, a novel in her hand, a frown on her brow, and most beautifully dressed. In solitary state, at half-past ten, she had breakfasted, waited upon by the trimmest of English handmaidens in smiles and lace cap.
She told him the story of her life, from the time of her flight from Powyss Place to the present, glossing over all that was dark, making the most of all that was bright. But he understood her he knew how her pride had suffered and bled. "I never thought of your going away," he said sadly.
And "Welcome to Powyss Place," Lady Helena says with kind courtesy "I can only wish your visit may be as pleasant to you as you made mine in New York." Without changing their dresses, they are ushered into a lofty and handsome dining-room. More brilliant lights, more silent, respectful servants, a round table luxuriously spread.
You are right, Lady Helena Powyss, I loved my cousin, and I married your nephew for his title and his wealth. I deserve all you can say of me. The worst will not be half bad enough." Her ladyship's face drooped again; her suppressed sobbing was the only sound to be heard. "I have come to you," Edith went on, "to tell you the truth. I don't ask what his secret is he speaks of; I don't wish to know.
Edwards, mount the fastest horse in the stables and ride to Powyss Place for your life." "Yes, miss," Edwards answers, in a low voice; "and please, miss, am I to tell Sir Victor?" She hesitates a moment her face changes, her voice shakes a little for the first time. "Yes," she answers, faintly, "tell him." Edwards leaves the room. She turns to another of the men servants.
The head jailer appears to be as much at a loss as his underling, but he is suspected. He lived in his youth in the Powyss family, and was suspected of a strong attachment to the prisoner. He says he visited Miss Catheron last night as usual when on his rounds, and saw nothing wrong or suspicious then, either about the filed bars or the young lady.
Half an hour more of rapid driving, and they are at Powyss Place, and their journey is at an end. They emerge from the chill darkness of dawning day into a blaze of light into a vast and stately entrance-hall. A long file of servants are drawn up to receive them.
They had "done" the south of Ireland, finished the Lakes, spent a pleasant half-week in Dublin, and now, in the light of the May afternoon, were flying along to meet the channel boat. Captain Hammond was of the party still, and included in the invitation to Powyss Place. He sat between Lady Helena and Sir Victor now Miss Stuart, in charming travelling costume, in the sunny seat next the window.
They reached the square, gloomy, black building called Chesholm jail, standing in the center of a gloomy, paved quadrangle. Miss Catheron was shown to a room. The jailer had once been a servant in the Powyss family, and he pledged himself now to make Miss Inez as comfortable as was admissible under the circumstances.