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The incident, from all points of view, shocked his sense of decency. Immediate retirement became his sole object. Lady Calmady moved away, carrying the boy. She trembled a little. He was heavy. Moreover, she sickened at the sight of blood. But little Helen Ormiston caught at her dress, looked up at her.
A coif of black lace covered her upturned hair, framed her sweet face, and was tied soberly under her chin. And, looking upon her, Ormiston yearned in spirit over this beautiful woman who had borne such grievous sorrows, and who, as he feared, had sorrow yet more grievous still to bear. "For ten to one the boy won't pull through he won't pull through," he said to himself.
There is a storm coming, and a heavy one! Our worthy burghers and most worshipful Lord Mayor will see their fires extinguished shortly, and themselves sent home with wet jackets." "And for weeks, almost month, there has not fallen a drop of rain," remarked Ormiston, gravely. "A remarkable coincidence, truly. There seems to be a fatality hanging over this devoted city."
Ormiston put in. John Knott limped forward. He stood with his hands behind him looking down at the two ladies. Some months had elapsed since he and Miss St. Quentin had met. He was very fond of the young lady. It interested him to meet her again. Honoria glanced up at him smiling. "Have you been out too?" she asked. "Not a bit of it.
At the end of a week he wrote "Nothing shall shake me, dear Ethel. Still, some consideration is due to them; for I am their only son." To this Ethel Ormiston sent no answer; but reflected "And what consideration is due to me? for you are my only lover."
If you don't come to the point at once, and tell me who I she is, I'll throttle you where you stand; and so give you warning." Half-indignant, and wholly laughing, Ormiston stepped back out of the way of his excited friend. "I cry you mercy! In one word, then, I have been dispatched by a lady in search of you, and that lady is Leoline."
His fortunes at once passed so very far beyond, and fell so far short of, the ordinary lot. She wondered whether, and could not but trust that, this old friend and newcomer was not too self-centred, too hardened by ability and success to appreciate the intimate pathos of the position. Ormiston read and answered her thought.
"They do that sometimes, you know." But here small Dick Ormiston, whose spirits, lately pirouetting on giddy heights of felicity, had suffered swift declension bootwards at mention of his thrilling adventure in which, alas, he had neither lot nor part, projected himself violently into the conversational arena.
"To tell you the truth," said Ormiston, with charming frankness, "I should! The lady is extremely beautiful, I must own; but she looks uncomfortably corpse-like at this present moment. I do not wish to die of the plague, either, until I see La Masque once more; and so if it is all the same to you, my dear friend, I will have the greatest pleasure in stepping round with you to the doctor's."
And Ormiston, impelled by an impulse he could hardly have explained, crossed the room, dragged back the heavy curtains, and flung one of the casements wide open.
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