An elderly lady got
out of it, followed by a fat white Scotch terrier, who growled at every
stranger within his reach. It is needless to introduce Lady Lydiard and
Tommie.
Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave the
servant her card. "Take that to your master, and say I won't detain
him five minutes." With these words, her Ladyship sauntered into the
grounds. She looked about her with observant eyes; not only noticing
the tent which had been set up on the grass to accommodate the expected
guests, but entering it, and looking at the waiters who were engaged
in placing the luncheon on the table. Returning to the outer world, she
next remarked that Mr. Hardyman's lawn was in very bad order. Barren
sun-dried patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and
there by the action of the summer heat, announced that the lawn, like
everything else at the farm, had been neglected, in the exclusive
attention paid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery which
bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became aware of a man
slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed in thought. The
man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses to her eyes and
recognized--Moody.
No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting.
Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to
visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they
had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had
escaped her at their parting interview.
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