"Luke, Luke!" remonstrated Phoebe, "when my lady has been so kind!"
"Oh, damn her kindness!" cried Mr. Marks; "it ain't her kindness as we want, gal, it's her money. She won't get no snivelin' gratitood from me. Whatever she does for us she does because she is obliged; and if she wasn't obliged she wouldn't do it--"
Heaven knows how much more Luke Marks might have said, had not my lady turned upon him suddenly and awed him into silence by the unearthly glitter of her beauty. Her hair had been blown away from her face, and being of a light, feathery quality, had spread itself into a tangled mass that surrounded her forehead like a yellow flame. There was another flame in her eyes--a greenish light, such as might flash from the changing-hued orbs of an angry mermaid.
"Stop," she cried. "I didn't come up here in the dead of night to listen to your insolence. How much is this debt?"
"Nine pound."
Lady Audley produced her purse--a toy of ivory, silver, and turquoise--she took from it a note and four sovereigns. She laid these upon the table.
"Let that man give me a receipt for the money," she said, "before I go."
It was some time before the man could be roused into sufficient consciousness for the performance of this simple duty, and it was only by dipping a pen into the ink and pushing it between his clumsy fingers, that he was at last made to comprehend that his autograph was wanted at the bottom of the receipt which had been made out by Phoebe Marks. Lady Audley took the document as soon as the ink was dry, and turned to leave the parlor. Phoebe followed her.
"You mustn't go home alone, my lady," she said. "You'll let me go with you?"
"Yes, yes; you shall go home with me."
The two women were standing near the door of the inn as my lady said this. Phoebe stared wonderingly at her patroness. She had expected that Lady Audley would be in a hurry to return home after settling this business which she had capriciously taken upon herself; but it was not so; my lady stood leaning against the inn door and staring into vacancy, and again Mrs. Marks began to fear that trouble had driven her late mistress mad.
A little Dutch clock in the bar struck two while Lady Audley lingered in this irresolute, absent manner. She started at the sound and began to tremble violently.
"I think I am going to faint, Phoebe," she said; "where can I get some cold water?"
"The pump is in the wash-house, my lady; I'll run and get you a glass of cold water."