Rushbrook, opening
the door, started back with an exclamation, no one but the inmate heard
the word that rose to his lips.
For there, seated before the glow of the blazing fire, was Miss Grace
Nevil. She had evidently just arrived, for her mantle was barely
loosened around her neck, and upon the fringe of brown hair between her
bonnet and her broad, low forehead a few drops of rain still sparkled.
As she lifted her long lashes quickly towards the door, it seemed as
if they, too, had caught a little of that moisture. Rushbrook moved
impatiently forward, and then stopped. Grace rose unhesitatingly to her
feet, and met him half-way with frankly outstretched hands. "First of
all," she said, with a half nervous laugh, "don't scold James; it's all
my fault; I forbade him to announce me, lest you should drive me away,
for I heard that during this excitement you came here for rest, and saw
no one. Even the intrusion into this room is all my own. I confess now
that I saw it the last night I was here; I was anxious to know if it was
unchanged, and made James bring me here.
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