The sky was clear; the November sun
shone as pleasantly as if the year had been younger by two good months;
and the view, noted in Scotland for its bright and peaceful charm, was
presented at the best which its wintry aspect could assume. If it had
been hidden in mist or drenched with rain, Mr. Noel Vanstone would,
to all appearance, have found it as attractive as he found it now. He
waited at the window until he heard Louisa's knock at the door, then
turned back sullenly to the breakfast-table and told her to come in.
"Make the tea," he said. "I know nothing about it. I'm left here
neglected. Nobody helps me."
The discreet Louisa silently and submissively obeyed.
"Did your mistress leave any message for me," he asked, "before she went
away?"
"No message in particular, sir. My mistress only said she should be too
late if she waited breakfast any longer."
"Did she say nothing else?"
"She told me at the carriage door, sir, that she would most likely be
back in a week."
"Was she in good spirits at the carriage door?"
"No, sir. I thought my mistress seemed very anxious and uneasy. Is there
anything more I can do, sir?"
"I don't know.
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