For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. . "Instantly, Hobson," returned Lady Trafford; "as soon as the carriage can be brought round. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. It was situated off a little hallway that led also to the kitchens and the back door to the outside. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis.
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