outline of the place. I saw that it was very large, and I noticed that
not even one of its hundred windows showed the least glimmer of light.
It loomed vast, dark and silent, as if deserted by every living thing.

The old driver gave a hearty pull at the bell, and the muffled clamour
reached me where I stood. I was quaking with fears and apprehensions of
that unknown future on whose threshold I was standing. Would Love or
Hate open for me the doors of Deepley Walls? I was strung to such a
pitch that it seemed impossible for any lesser passion to be handmaiden
to my needs.

What I saw when the massive door was opened was an aged woman, dressed
like a superior domestic, who, in sharp accents, demanded to know what
we meant by disturbing a quiet family in that unseemly way. She was
holding one hand over her eyes, and trying to make out our appearance
through the gathering darkness. I stepped close up to her. "I am Miss
Janet Hope, from Park Hill Seminary," I said, "and I wish to speak with
Lady Chillington."




CHAPTER II.

THE MISTRESS OF DEEPLEY WALLS.


The words were hardly out of my lips when the woman shrank suddenly
back, as though struck by an invisible hand, and gave utterance to an
inarticulate cry of wonder and alarm. Then, striding forward, she seized