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Evidently it was a lady's chamber; for in a recess near the window stood a great quaint carved bedstead, with curtains and snowy lace, looped back with golden arrows and scarlet ribbons. Some one lay on it, too at least, Ormiston thought so; and he went cautiously forward, drew the curtain, and looked down. "Great Heaven! what a beautiful face!" was his cry, as he bent still further down.
"And I'm the happy exception! Well, now that's an altogether pretty speech," Mrs. Ormiston cried, laughing. "But to return to the matter in hand, to this hero of a baby I dote on babies, Dr. Knott. I've one of my own of six months old, and she's a charming child I assure you." "I don't doubt that for an instant, having the honour of knowing her mother.
You know the old song, Ormiston: 'If she be not fair for me What care I how fair she be!" "Kingsley, you know nothing about it!" said Ormiston, impatiently. "So stop talking nonsense. If you are cold-blooded, I am not; and I love her!" Sir Norman slightly shrugged his shoulders, and flung his smoked-out weed into a heap of fire-wood. "Are we near her house?" he asked. "Yonder is the bridge."
Sir Norman, with a notion in his head that his dwarfish highness might have placed sentinels around his royal residence, endeavored to pierce the gloom in search of them. Though he could discover none, he still thought discretion the better part of valor, and stepped out into the road. "Now, then, where are you going?" inquired Ormiston for, following him.
It was a piercing shriek no unusual sound; and as he spoke, the door of an adjoining house was flung open, a woman rushed wildly out, fled down an adjoining street, and disappeared. Sir Norman and his companion looked at each other, and then at the house. "What's all this about?" demanded Ormiston.
Ormiston assisted in doing a good deed, tonight, for a friend of mine," said the count. "Will he add to that obligation by telling me if he has not discovered her again, and brought her back?" "Do you refer to the fair lady in yonder house?" "So she is there? I thought so, George," said the count, addressing himself to his companion. "Yes, I refer to her, the lady you saved from the river.
Then he unlocked his safe and took out Ethel Ormiston's letters. They made no great heap; for of late their correspondence had dwindled to an annual exchange of good wishes at Christmas. She was still earning her livelihood as a governess. Bob thought for a week, and then wrote. He asked Ethel Ormiston to come out and be his wife. You will observe that the old curse still lay on him.
Then, as the gentleman addressed moved away, escorted by his host and followed in admiring silence by Godfrey Ormiston, he repeated, almost querulously: "Foolish things mysteries. Nothing in them, as a rule, when you thrash them out. Mares' nests generally. And that reminds me, I hear young" Lord Fallowfeild's air of worry became accentuated "young Calmady's got home again at last." "Yes," Mrs.
"It shown symptoms of clearing off, already," said Ormiston, who, in his secret heart, thought it would be an excellent joke to bring the rivals face to face in the lady's presence; "so you will not have long to wait." To which observation the count replied not; and the three stood in silence, watching the fury of the storm.
Ormiston drew back as the twain approached, and entered the deep portals of La Masque's own doorway. He could see them both by the aforesaid faint lamplight, and he noticed that La Masque's companion was a wrinkled old woman, that would not trouble the peace of mind of the most jealous lover in Christendom.
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