“Lady—Mon—tressor?” slowly repeated the hostess, gazing searchingly into the pale, worn, most despairing, yet perfectly beautiful face, that with its downcast eyes, was now unvailed and bowed before her. She knew that Mr. Oldfield had gone to Hyde that morning to assist at the marriage of Lord Montressor and Miss Morelle, whom by the way she had not seen for years, and could not now recognize in the sorrow-stunned woman before her; but why should Lady Montressor, who was married this morning, be here alone in bridal array, to-night? “Oh! I beg your ladyship’s pardon,” she said at length, recovering her presence of mind, though by no means her astonishment, and offering her own comfortable chair to her visitor—“Pray be seated, Lady Montressor.” Estelle mechanically sank into the proferred seat. Mr. Trevor greeted his hostess, who welcomed him kindly, and invited him to sit down. The Rector threw himself into his own favorite leathern chair, rubbed his hands with an assumption of cheerful ease, and said— “Now tea! tea! my dear! as quickly as it can be served. This lady greatly needs refreshment, for I think she has not broken her fast since morning.” “But, perhaps, Lady Montressor would prefer first to retire to her room and change her dress,” suggested the old lady, turning toward her guest and gazing with no abatement of astonishment upon her strange attire, wondering whether she had brought any baggage, and in fact wondering all around the compass of which she formed the centre. But Estelle did not reply to her suggestion, most likely did not understand, or even hear it. And Mr. Oldfield hastened to answer. “No, my dear, I think not; her ladyship’s trunks have not yet arrived, and I think she will not feel disposed to change until she retires for the night, which should be soon, as she is really ill from fatigue. Therefore, tea! tea! my good wife, as soon as possible.” Then rising, and crossing over to Estelle, he said, “You would like to retire soon, my child, would you not?” “Oh! yes—yes,” she murmured in a voice nearly extinct with grief and weariness. “But—_where is his lordship_?” very naturally inquired the correct old gentlewoman. “Lord Montressor—is—ahem!—not here at the present time,” replied the Rector, pointedly; but seeing that this very direct answer failed to enlighten and satisfy his lady, he added, “Come, come, my dear! there is no misunderstanding between Lord and Lady Montressor; they are on excellent terms. Well, of course, there is _something_ to be explained, which you shall hear in time! meanwhile, my dear, tea, tea!” It was some comfort to be told that there _was_ something real and not to be left to imagine herself under the influence of a wierd dream; and so the excellent woman, set somewhat more at ease upon the subject of this strange bridal apparition, rang and ordered tea, which was immediately served.