Chapter 22

⁠​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌⁠Lady Constantine flung down the old-fashioned lacework, whose beauties she had been pointing out to Swithin, and exclaimed, 'Who can it be? Not Louis, surely?'

They listened. An arrival was such a phenomenon at this unfrequented mansion, and particularly a late arrival, that no servant was on the alert to respond to the call; and the visitor rang again, more loudly than before. Sounds of the tardy