"To the library then."

And through the antechamber she passed rapidly, impatient of a momentary
stop of her conductor to open the folding-doors, while a man, with a
letter-box in hand, equally impatient, begged that Lady Davenant might be
told, "The General's express was waiting."

Lady Davenant was sealing letters in great haste for this express, but when
the door opened, and she saw Helen, she threw wax and letter from her, and
pushing aside the sofa-table, came forward to receive her with open arms.

All was in an instant happy in Helen's heart; but there was the man of the
letter-box; he must be attended to. "Beg your pardon, Helen, my dear--one
moment. Letters of consequence--must not be delayed."

By the time the letters were finished, before they were gone, Lady Cecilia
came in. The same as ever, with affectionate delight in her eyes--her
beautiful eyes. The same, yes, the same Cecilia as ever; yet different:
less of a girl, less lively, but more happy. The moment she had embraced
her, Lady Cecilia turned quick to present General Clarendon, thinking he
had followed, but he had stopped in the hall.

"Send off the letters," were the first words of his which Helen heard. The
tone commanding, the voice remarkably gentlemanlike. An instant afterwards
he came in. A fine figure, a handsome man; in the prime of life; with a
high-born, high-bred military air. English decidedly--proudly English.
Something of the old school--composed self-possession, with voluntary
deference to others--rather distant. Helen felt that his manner of
welcoming her to Clarendon Park was perfectly polite, yet she would have
liked it better had it been less polite--more cordial. Lady Cecilia, whose