The same house is not going to hold me and that tall female image, who's more fit to be carried about at a foreign carnival than some that they do carry." So Marvel left.

And when Lady Isabel went to her room to dress for dinner, Joyce entered it.
"I am not much accustomed to a lady's maid's duties," began she, "but Miss Carlyle has sent me, my lady, to do what I can for you, if you will allow me." Isabel thought it was kind of Miss Carlyle.
"And if you please to trust me with the keys of your things, I will take charge of them for you, my lady, until you are suited with a maid," Joyce resumed.
"I don't know anything about the keys," answered Isabel; "I never keep them." Joyce did her best, and Lady Isabel went down.

It was nearly six o'clock, the dinner hour, and she strolled to the park gates, hoping to meet Mr.Carlyle.Taking a few steps out, she looked down the road, but could not see him coming; so she turned in again, and sat down under a shady tree out of view of the road.

It was remarkably warm weather for the closing days of May.
Half an hour, and then Mr.Carlyle came pelting up, passed the gates, and turned on to the grass.

There he saw his wife.