I have a profound faith in my own ideas."
* * * * *
CHAPTER XI.
DANIEL GRANGER.
After luncheon that day, Clarissa lost sight of Lady Laura. The Castle
seemed particularly quiet on this afternoon. Nearly every one was out of
doors playing croquet; but Clarissa had begun to find croquet rather a
wearisome business of late, and had excused herself on the plea of letters
to write. She had not begun her letter-writing yet, however, but was
wandering about the house in a purposeless way--now standing still for a
quarter of an hour at a time, looking out of a window, without being in the
least degree conscious of the landscape she was looking at, and then pacing
slowly up and down the long picture gallery with a sense of relief in being
alone.
At last she roused herself from this absent dreamy state.
"I am too idle to write this afternoon," she thought. "I'll go to the
library and get a book."
The Hale library was Clarissa's delight. It was a noble collection gathered
by dead-and-gone owners of the Castle, and filled up with all the most
famous modern works at the bidding of Mr. Armstrong, who gave his
bookseller a standing order to supply everything that was proper, and
rarely for his own individual amusement or instruction had recourse to any
shelf but one which contained neat editions of the complete works of the
Druid and Mr.
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