"And yet he is capable of any amount of insolence."

"Indeed?" said Mowbray, languidly. "Then why don't you turn him off, and get a civil man?"

"Because--because," said Edith, in a tremulous voice, "there is one here who--who countermands all my orders."

"Ah!" said Mowbray, in a listless tone, which seemed to say that he took no interest whatever in these matters.

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Mowbray, in a querulous voice. "Servants are such dreadful plagues. Worry! why, it's nothing else but worry! And they're so shockingly impertinent. They really have no sense of respect. I don't know for my part what the world's coming to. I suppose it's all these dreadful radicals and newspapers and working-men's clubs and things. When I was young it was not so."

"You have not been in Dalton Hall since you were a young girl, Miss Dalton?" said Mowbray, inquiringly.

"No; not for ten years."

"Do you find it much changed?"

"Very much--and for the worse. I have had great difficulties to contend with."

"Indeed?" said Mowbray, indifferently.

"Well, at any rate, you have a n.o.ble old place, with every thing around you to make you enjoy life."

"Yes--all but one thing."

"Ah?"

"I am a prisoner here, Captain Mowbray," said Edith, with an appealing glance and a mournful tone.

"Ah, really?" said Mowbray; and taking up a book he began to turn over the leaves in a careless way.

"A prisoner?" put in Mrs. Mowbray. "Yes, and so you are. It's like imprisonment, this dreadful mourning. But one has to act in accordance with public sentiment. And I suppose you grieve very much, my dear, for your poor dear papa. Poor man! I remember seeing him once in London. It was my first season. There were Lord Rutland and the Marquis of Abercorn and the young Duke of Severn--all the rage. Do you know, my dear, I was quite a belle then."

From this beginning Mrs. Mowbray went on to chatter about the gayeties of her youth--and Lord A, how handsome he was; and Sir John B, how rich he was; and Colonel C, how extravagant he was. Then she wandered off to the subject of state b.a.l.l.s, described the dress she wore at her first presentation at court, and the appearance of his Gracious Majesty King George, and how he was dressed, and who were with him, and what he said--while all the time poor Edith, who was longing for an opportunity to tell them about herself, sat quivering with impatience and agitation.

During all this time Captain Mowbray looked bored, and sat examining the furniture and Edith alternately. He made no effort to take part in the conversation, but seemed anxious to bring the visit to a close. This Edith saw with a sinking heart. These, then, were the ones from whom she had hoped a.s.sistance. But unpromising as these were, they formed just now her only hope, and so, as they at length rose to go, Edith grew desperate, and burst forth in a low but quick and excited tone.

"Wait one moment," said she, "and excuse me if I give you trouble; but the position I am in forces me to appeal to you for help, though you are only strangers. I am actually imprisoned in this place. A man here--Wiggins, the late steward--confines me within these grounds, and will not let me go out, nor will he allow any of my friends to come and see me. He keeps me a prisoner under strict watch. Wherever I go about the grounds I am followed. He will not even allow my friends to write to me. I am the owner, but he is the master. Captain Mowbray, I appeal to you. You are an officer and a gentleman. Save me from this cruel imprisonment! I want nothing but liberty. I want to join my friends, and gain my rights. I entreat you to help me, or if you can not help me yourself, let others know, or send me a lawyer, or take a letter for me to some friends."

And with these words poor Edith sank back into the chair from which she had risen, and sobbed aloud. She had spoken in feverish, eager tones, and her whole frame quivered with agitation.

Mrs. Mowbray listened to her with a complacent smile, and when Edith sank back in her chair she sat down too, and taking out her handkerchief and a bottle of salts, began to apply the one to her eyes and the other to her nose alternately. As for Captain Mowbray, he coolly resumed his seat, yawned, and then sat quietly looking first at Edith and then at Mrs. Mowbray. At length Edith by a violent effort regained her self-control, and looking at the captain, she said, indignantly,

"You say nothing, Sir. Am I to think that you refuse this request?"

"By no means," said Captain Mowbray, dryly. "Silence is said usually to signify consent."

"You will help me, then, after all?" cried Edith, earnestly.

"Wait a moment," said Captain Mowbray, a little abruptly. "Who is this man, Miss Dalton, of whom you complain?"

"Wiggins."

"Wiggins?" said Mowbray. "Ah! was he not the steward of your late father?"

"Yes."

"I have heard somewhere that he was appointed your guardian. Is that so?"

"I don't know," said Edith. "He claims to be my guardian; but I am of age, and I don't see how he can be."

"The law of guardianship is very peculiar," said Mowbray. "Perhaps he has right on his side."

"Right!" cried Edith, warmly. "How can he have the right to restrict my liberty, and make me a prisoner on my own estate. I am of age. The estate is absolutely mine. He is only a servant. Have I no rights whatever?"

"I should say you had," said Mowbray, languidly stroking his mustache.

"I should say you had, of course. But this guardian business is a troublesome thing, and Wiggins, as your guardian, may have a certain amount of power."

Edith turned away impatiently.

"I hoped," said she, "that the mere mention of my situation would be enough to excite your sympathy. I see that I was mistaken, and am sorry that I have troubled you."

"You are too hasty," said Mowbray. "You see, I look at your position merely from a legal point of view."

"A legal point!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray, who had now dried her eyes and restored the handkerchief and the salts bottle to their proper places.

"A legal point! Ah, Miss Dalton, my son is great on legal points. He is quite a lawyer. If he had embraced the law as a profession, which I once thought of getting him to do, though that was when he was quite a child, and something or other put it quite out of my head--if he had embraced the law as a profession, my dear, he might have aspired to the bench."

Edith rested her brow on her hand and bit her lips, reproaching herself for having confided her troubles to these people. Wiggins himself was more endurable.

"Your case," said Captain Mowbray, tapping his boot with his cane in a careless manner, "is one which requires a very great amount of careful consideration."

Edith said nothing. She had become hopeless.

"If there is a will, and Wiggins has powers given him in the instrument, he can give you a great deal of trouble without your being able to prevent it."

This scene was becoming intolerable, and Edith could bear it no longer.

"I want to make one final request," said she, with difficulty controlling the scorn and indignation which she felt. "It is this--will you give me a seat in your carriage as far as the village inn?"

"The village inn?" repeated Mowbray, and the he was silent for some time. His mother looked at him inquiringly and curiously.

"I have friends," said Edith, "and I will go to them. All that I ask of you is the drive of a few rods to the village inn. You can leave me there, and I will never trouble you again."

"Well, really, Miss Dalton," said Mowbray, after another pause, in which Edith suffered frightful suspense--"really, your request is a singular one. I would do any thing for you--but this is different. You see, you are a sort of ward, and to carry you away from the control of your guardian might be a very dangerous offense."

"In fact, you are afraid, I see," said Edith, bitterly. "Well, you need say no more. I will trouble you no further."

Saying this, she rose and stood in all her stately beauty before them--cold, haughty, and without a trace of emotion left. They were struck by the change. Thus far she had appeared a timid, agitated, frightened girl; they now saw in her something of that indomitable spirit which had already baffled and perplexed her jailers.

"We hope to see more of you," said Mrs. Mowbray. "We shall call again soon."