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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

He walked
along, however, thus taking, he thought, the readiest way to his
lordship's apartment: either he would find him in his bedroom, or
could go through that to his sitting-room! He glanced at the
pictures he passed, and seemed, strange to say, though, so far as he
knew, he had never been in the place except in the dark, to
recognize some of them as belonging to the stuff of the dream in
which he had been wandering through the night--only that was a
glowing and gorgeous dream, whereas the pictures were even
commonplace! Here was something to be meditated upon--but for the
present postponed! His lordship was expecting him!
Arrived, as he thought, at the door of the earl's bedroom, he
knocked, and receiving no answer, opened it, and found himself in a
narrow passage. Nearly opposite was another door, partly open, and
hearing a movement within, he ventured to knock there. A voice he
knew at once to be lady Arctura's, invited him to enter. It was an
old, lovely, gloomy little room, in which sat the lady writing. It
had but one low lattice-window, to the west, but a fire blazed
cheerfully in the old-fashioned grate. She looked up, nor showed
more surprise than if he had been a servant she had rung for.
"I beg your pardon, my lady," he said: "my lord wished to see me,
but I have lost my way."
"I will show it you," she answered, and rising came to him.


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