A day or two after Mr. Willet called with the message from Mr.
Markland, he went over again to Woodbine Lodge. It was late in the
afternoon, and Fanny was sitting in the portico that looked from the
western front of the dwelling, with her thoughts so far away from
the actual things around her that she did not notice the approach of
any one, until Mr. Willet, whom she had never met, was only a few
yards distant; then she looked up, and as her eyes rested upon him,
she started to her feet and struck her hands together, uttering an
involuntary exclamation of surprise. The name of Mr. Lyon was half
uttered, when she saw her mistake, and made a strong effort to
compose her suddenly disturbed manner.
"Mrs. Markland is at home, I presume," said the visitor, in a
respectful manner, as he paused a few paces distant from Fanny, and
observed, with some surprise, the agitation his appearance had
occasioned.
"She is. Will you walk in, sir?" The voice of Fanny trembled, though
she strove hard to speak calmly and with apparent self-possession.
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