She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. But where in the world was the girl? A door led to another chamber beyond. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. ” He said. \" He looked crestfallen. We had such a pride in you, such hope in you. " This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. Hist!’ he added, as he turned his head and noticed Alderley’s glance. Two persons possessing a more comfortable stock of assurance could not be readily found.
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