`And you told them the news at Limmeridge House?'
`Yes, miss. And I'm quite sure nothing was said to frighten the poor thing, for I was talking when she was taken ill. It gave me quite a turn, miss, to see it, never having been taken faint myself.'
Before any more questions could be put to her, she was called away to receive a basket of eggs at the dairy door. As she left us I whispered to Miss Halcombe --
`Ask her if she happened to mention, last night, that visitors were expected at Limmeridge House.'
Miss Halcombe showed me, by a look, that she understood, and put the question as soon as the dairymaid returned to us.
`Oh yes, miss, I mentioned that,' said the girl simply. `The company coming, and the accident to the brindled cow, was all the news I had to take to the farm.'
`Did you mention names? Did you tell them that Sir Percival Glyde was expected on Monday?'
`Yes, miss -- I told them Sir Percival Glyde was coming. I hope there was no harm in it -- I hope I didn't do wrong.'
`Oh no, no harm. Come, Mr Hartright, Hannah will begin to think us in the way, if we interrupt her any longer over her work.'
We stopped and looked at one another the moment we were alone again.
`Is there any doubt in your mind, now, Miss Halcombe?'
`Sir Percival Glyde shall remove that doubt, Mr Hartright -- or Laura Fairlie shall never be his wife.'
XIV
As we walked round to the front of the house a fly from the railway approached us along the drive. Miss Halcombe waited on the door-steps until the fly drew up, and then advanced to shake hands with an old gentleman, who got out briskly the moment the steps were let down. Mr Gilmore had arrived.
I looked at him, when we were introduced to each other, with an interest and a curiosity which I could hardly conceal. This old man was to remain at Limmeridge House after I had left it; he was to hear Sir Percival Glyde's explanation, and was to give Miss Halcombe the assistance of his experience in forming her judgment; he was to wait until the question of the marriage was set at rest; and his hand, if that question were decided in the affirmative, was to draw the settlement which bound Miss Fairlie irrevocably to her engagement. Even then, when I knew nothing by comparison with what I know now, I looked at the family lawyer with am interest which I had never felt before in the presence of any man breathing who was a total stranger to me.
In external appearance Mr Gilmore was the exact opposite of the conventional idea of an old lawyer. His complexion was florid -- his white hair was worn rather long and kept carefully brushed -- his black coat, waistcoat, and trousers fitted him with perfect neatness -- his white cravat was carefully tied, and his lavender-coloured kid gloves might have adorned the hands of a fashionable clergyman, without fear and without reproach. His manners were pleasantly marked by the formal grace and refinement of the old school of politeness, quickened by the invigorating sharpness and readiness of a man whose business in life obliges him always to keep his faculties in good working order. A sanguine constitution and fair prospects to begin with -- a long subsequent career of creditable and comfortable prosperity -- a cheerful, diligent, widely-respected old age -- such were the general impressions I derived from my introduction to Mr Gilmore, and it is but fair to him to add, that the knowledge I gained by later and better experience only tended to confirm them.