Meanwhile the remorseless seconds crept on. It wanted but five minutes
to the hour, and the hour would, she well knew, bring the man with it.
The five minutes passed slowly and in silence. Both her father and
herself realised the nature of the impending situation, but neither of
them spoke of it. Ah! there was the sound of wheels upon the gravel.
So it had come.
Ida felt like death itself. Her pulse sunk and fluttered; her vital
forces seemed to cease their work.
Another two minutes went by, then the door opened and the parlour-maid
came in.
"Mr. Cossey, if you please, sir."
"Oh," said the Squire. "Where is he?"
"In the vestibule, sir."
"Very good. Tell him I will be there in a minute."
The maid went.
"Now, Ida," said her father, "I suppose that we had better get this
business over."
"Yes," she answered, rising; "I am ready."
And gathering up her energies, she passed out to meet her fate.
CHAPTER XLIII
GEORGE IS SEEN TO LAUGH
Ida and her father reached the vestibule to find Edward Cossey
standing with his face to the mantelpiece and nervously toying with
some curiosities upon it. He was, as usual, dressed with great care,
and his face, though white and worn from the effects of agitation of
mind, looked if anything handsomer than ever.
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