"It shall be at the door in ten minutes. Has your ladyship any further
commands?"

"None whatever. Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do. Take
that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. Where is Sir Rowland?"

"In the library, your ladyship. He has given orders that no one is to
disturb him. But there's a person in the hall--a very odd sort of
man--waiting to see him, who won't be sent away."

"Very well. Lose not a moment, Hobson."

The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired.

"Your ladyship is far too unwell to travel," remarked the female
attendant, assisting her to rise; "you'll never be able to reach
Manchester."

"It matters not, Norris," replied Lady Trafford: "I would rather die on
the road, than be exposed to another such scene as I have just
encountered."

"Dear me!" sympathised Mrs. Norris. "I was afraid from the scream I
heard, that something dreadful had happened, Sir Rowland has a terrible
temper indeed--a shocking temper! I declare he frightens me out of my
senses."

"Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly.