been the salutation of such a man.

I was so moved by one thing and another that I hardly noticed that
Gurnard had come into the room. I had not seen him since the night when
he had dined with the Duc de Mersch at Churchill's, but he seemed so
part of the emotion, of the frame of mind, that he slid noiselessly
into the scene and hardly surprised me. I was called out of the
room--someone desired to see me, and I passed, without any transition of
feeling, into the presence of an entire stranger--a man who remains a
voice to me. He began to talk to me about the state of my aunt's health.
He said she was breaking up; that he begged respectfully to urge that I
would use my influence to take her back to London to consult Sir
James--I, perhaps, living in the house and not having known my aunt for
very long, might not see; but he ... He was my aunt's solicitor. He was
quite right; my aunt _was_ breaking up, she had declined visibly in the
few hours that I had been away from her. She had been doing business
with this man, had altered her will, had seen Mr. Gurnard; and, in some
way had received a shock that seemed to have deprived her of all
volition. She sat with her head leaning back, her eyes closed, the lines
of her face all seeming to run downward.

"It is obvious to me that arrangements ought to be made for your return
to England," the lawyer said, "whatever engagements Miss Granger or Mr.
Etchingham Granger or even Mr. Gurnard may have made."

I wondered vaguely what the devil Mr. Gurnard could have to say in the
matter, and then Miss Granger herself came into the room.

"They want me," my aunt said in a low voice, "they have been persuading
me ... to go back ... to Etchingham, I think you said, Meredith."