It was a beautiful afternoon, of a mild splendour that touched and transfigured even the dull colourless street into a gracious warmth of pale magnificence; the sky was faintly coloured, but of a clear blue, the clouds were delicate but of a pure gold tint, the brick fronts of the houses glowed in the sun that dwelt on the plane-trees and the few flowers in the gardens, covering them with a wistful glory. At the bottom of the street they got into a hackney coach. Susannah gave the address, after that they could neither of them speak; they held each other's hand and looked out of the window at the long familiar and now horribly distorted street, at the little trivial sights and objects, once pleasant and now terrible, that they passed. At the corner of Panton Square they stopped the hackney and alighted. It was Susannah again who paid the man and dismissed him. "Have you," she asked, "been into my lord's mansion?" Miss Boyle shook her head. The hackney rumbled off down towards the Mall; a chapman, shouting ballads and the last dying speech and confession of a famous thief hanged that morning, went by. The square was filled with sedan chairs, fashionable curricles and coaches, waiting footmen and pages. "My lord's last reception seems well attended," said Miss Chressham quietly. "Hold my hand again," whispered Selina, and she pulled her hat forward so that it concealed her face in its shadow. Unnoticed they passed round the trees where the golden dusty light of late afternoon was burnishing the foliage, and reached the door of Lyndwood House. A number of ladies, gaily dressed but wearing black favours, were leaving it; some were weeping, all seemed awed. "He was very handsome," said one as she stepped into her chair. "How much will the house fetch?" wondered her companion; and "La, I wish I had never come," sighed a third, who was very young. "Hold my hand tight," breathed Miss Boyle. They mounted the steps Susannah knew so well and entered the open door; here the crowd, coming and going, a little delayed them. They stood for a moment brushed by scented skirts and silk mantles and pierced by careless comment. In the gorgeous hall stood some of the pictures my lord had delighted in, piled against the wall; cabinets of china, of gold and silver, and packing cases showed through the open door of the dining-room; men were making lists, numbering and valuing. The servants at the foot of the stairs were strange to Susannah. She spoke to one, putting money into his hand. "Where does my lord lie?" she asked. He answered with an air of one weary of replying to the same question. The place was on show, for two days the town had trooped through the rooms, looking at the furniture, at the extravagances of my lord, and at my lord himself. Selina turned her wide vacant eyes on Susannah. "Where is he?" she asked. Miss Chressham grasped her arm warmly. "Hush, my dear, my dear; upstairs, in his bedchamber."