This man, who violated the laws of heaven and earth with little terror
of the Divine vengeance, feared above all to be cut by the men of his
set.
This is the slavery which the man of fashion creates for himself--these
are the fetters which such men as Reginald Eversleigh forge for their
own souls.
But before we trace the progress of Sir Reginald from step to step in
this terrible career, we must once more revert to the strange visitors
at Frimley.
Jane Payland by no means approved of passing Christmas-day in the
uninteresting seclusion of a country inn, with nothing more festive to
look forward to than a specially ordered, but lonely dinner, and
nothing to divert her thoughts but the rural spectacle afforded by the
inn-yard. As to going out for a walk in such weather, she would not
have thought of such a thing, even if she had any one to walk out with;
and to go alone--no--Jane Payland had no fancy for amusement of that
order. The day had been particularly dreary to the lady's maid, because
the lady had been busily engaged in affairs of which she had no
cognizance, and this ignorance, not a little exasperating even in town,
became well-nigh intolerable to her in the weariness, the idleness, and
the dullness of Frimley. When Lady Eversleigh went out in the dark
evening, accompanied by the mysterious personage in whom Jane Payland
had recognized their fellow-lodger, the amazement which she experienced
produced an agreeable variety in her sensations, and the fact that the
man with the vulture-like beak carried a carpet-bag intensified her
surprise.
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