The landlord bowed a little, with a dignity beyond that of his dress.

“Supper shall be served immediately, madam,” he said, with a tactful impartiality towards them both.

* * * * *

They were indeed very pleasant rooms; and, as Anthony had described them to her, were situated towards the back of the long, low house, on the first floor, with a private staircase leading straight up from the yard to the parlour itself.  The sleeping-rooms, too, opened upon the parlour; that which the two ladies were to occupy was furthest from the yard, for quietness’ sake; that in which Anthony and his man would sleep, upon the other side.  The windows of all three looked straight out upon a little walled garden that appeared to be the property of some other house.  The rooms were plainly furnished, but had a sort of dignity about them, especially in the carved woodwork about the doors and windows.  There was a fireplace in the parlour, plainly a recent addition; and a maid rose from kindling the logs and turf, as the two ladies came back after washing and changing.

A table was already laid, lit by a couple of candles:  it was laid with fine napery, and the cutlery was clean and solid.  Marjorie looked round the room once more; and, as she sat down, Anthony came in, still in his mud-splashed dress, carrying three or four letters in his hands.

“News,” he said....  “I will be with you immediately,” and vanished into his room.

* * * * *

The sense of home was deepening on Marjorie every moment.  This room in which she sat, might, with a little fancy, be thought to resemble the hall at Booth’s Edge.  It was not so high, indeed; but the plain solidity of the walls and woodwork, the aspect of the supper-table, and the quiet, so refreshing after the noises of the day, and, above all, after the din of their mile-long ride through the City—­these little things, together with the knowledge that the journey was done at last, and that her old friend Robin was, if not already come, at least soon to arrive—­these little things helped to soothe and reassure her.  She wondered how her mother found herself....

When Anthony came back, the supper was all laid out.  He had given orders that no waiting was to be done; his own servants would do what was necessary.  He had a bright and interested face, Marjorie thought; and the instant they were sat down, she knew the reason of it.

“We are just in time,” he said.  “These letters have been lying here for me the last week.  They will be here, they tell me, by to-morrow night.  But that is not all—­”

He glanced round the dusky room; then he laid down the knife with which he was carving; and spoke in a yet lower voice.

“Father Campion is in the house,” he said.

His sister started.

“In the house?...  Do you mean—­”

He nodded mysteriously, as he took up the knife again.