After alighting from the barouche, Lady Eversleigh waited to see if her
husband would approach her, and offer his arm; she had a faint hope
that he would do so, even in spite of his evident estrangement; but her
hope was cruelly disappointed. Sir Oswald walked straight to a portly
dowager, and offered to escort her to the cave.
"Do you remember a pic-nic here twenty years ago, at which you and I
danced together by moon-light, Lady Hetherington?" he said. "We old
folks have pleasant memories of the past, and are the fittest
companions for each other. The young people can enjoy themselves much
better without the restraint of our society."
He said this loud enough for his wife to hear. She did hear every word,
and felt there was hidden significance in that careless speech. For a
moment she was inclined to break down the icy barrier of reserve. The
words which she wanted to speak were almost on her lips, "Let me go
with you, Oswald." But in the next instant she met her husband's eyes,
and their cold gaze chilled her heart.
At the same moment Victor Carrington offered her his arm, with his
accustomed deferential manner. She accepted the proffered arm, scarcely
knowing who offered it, so deeply did she feel her husband's
unkindness.
"What have I done to offend him?" she thought. "What is this cruel
mystery which divides us, and which is almost breaking my heart?"
"Come, Lady Eversleigh," cried several voices; "we want you to
accompany us to the Wizard's Cave.
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