England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
The next words were suspended on his lips. It was impossible to realize
such a state of things; but the strange impression that she had already
produced on him was now confirmed. If he could believe his senses, her
face did certainly tell him that he was invisible and inaudible to the
woman whom he had just addressed! She moved slowly away with a heavy
sigh, like a person disappointed and distressed. Following her with his
eyes, he saw the dog once more--a little smooth-coated terrier of the
ordinary English breed. The dog showed none of the restless activity of
his race. With his head down and his tail depressed, he crouched like
a creature paralyzed by fear. His mistress roused him by a call. He
followed her listlessly as she turned away.
After walking a few paces only, she suddenly stood still.
Mr. Rayburn heard her talking to herself.
"Did I feel it again?" she said, as if perplexed by some doubt that awed
or grieved her. After a while her arms rose slowly, and opened with a
gentle caressing action--an embrace strangely offered to the empty air!
"No," she said to herself, sadly, after waiting a moment. "More perhaps
when to-morrow comes--no more to-day." She looked up at the clear blue
sky. "The beautiful sunlight! the merciful sunlight!" she murmured. "I
should have died if it had happened in the dark."
Once more she called to the dog; and once more she walked slowly away.
"Is she going home, papa?' the child asked.
"We will try and find out," the father answered.
He was by this time convinced that the poor creature was in no condition
to be permitted to go out without some one to take care of her.
From motives of humanity, he was resolved on making the attempt to
communicate with her friends.
III.
THE lady left the Gardens by the nearest gate; stopping to lower
her veil before she turned into the busy thoroughfare which leads to
Kensington. Advancing a little way along the High Street, she entered a
house of respectable appearance, with a card in one of the windows which
announced that apartments were to let.
Mr. Rayburn waited a minute--then knocked at the door, and asked if he
could see the mistress of the house. The servant showed him into a room
on the ground floor, neatly but scantily furnished. One little white
object varied the grim brown monotony of the empty table. It was a
visiting-card.
With a child's unceremonious curiosity Lucy pounced on the card, and
spelled the name, letter by letter: "Z, A, N, T," she repeated. "What
does that mean?"
Her father looked at the card, as he took it away from her, and put it
back on the table. The name was printed, and the address was added in
pencil: "Mr. John Zant, Purley's Hotel."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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