Explore "The Great House" by Stanley J. Weyman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Mary Audley was one of the last to hear the news. Etruria brought it from the town one day in January, when the evenings were beginning to lengthen, and the last hour of daylight was the dreariest of the twenty-four. It had rained, and the oaks in the park were a-drip, the thorn trees stood in tiny pools, the moorland lay stark under a pall of fog. In the vale the Trent was in flood, its pale waters swirling past the willow-stools, creeping over the chilled meadows, and stealing inch by inch up the waterside lanes. Etruria's feet were wet, and she was weary with her trudge through the mud; but when Mary met her on the tiny landing on which their rooms opened, there was a sparkle in the girl's eyes as bright as the red petticoat that showed below her tucked-up gown.
"You didn't forget -- " Mary was beginning, and then, "Why, Etruria," she exclaimed, "I believe you have seen Mr. Colet?"