'For all reply, Beatrice held up her hand and listened.
'"Hark! he is coming. I hear footsteps along the gallery. Farewell, Frances. I must not spoil the tête-à-tête. I shall vanish through this door as Mr. Carroll is coming in at the other."
'And she was as good as her word, in spite of my despairing attempt to catch her hand, and my hurried whisper of "Pray don't go," as my first glance at the face of the stranger assured me that he was not Oliver after all. The page who had announced Mr. Carroll withdrew, after a low bow, and I was left alone with my strange visitor. I was so confused by his sudden entrance, and by the conversation I had just been having with Beatrice, that the self-possession my six months' sojourn at Court had taught me entirely evaporated; and it was not until I had finished a most profound courtesy, in return for an equally elaborate salutation from Mr. Carroll, that I ventured once more to look him in the face. No, it was not Oliver. No amount of disguise could have changed his blue eyes into brown ones, or altered his well-remembered features into those I saw before me. The gentleman was entirely unknown to me, I felt certain; and with this thought came back my resentment at his unwarrantable intrusion. So I summoned up my dignity with a great effort, and said, "The Lady Beatrice Falkland has informed me that you have tidings of my brother to give me, sir. I trust he was safe and well when you last saw him?"
'"I am speaking then to Lady Desmond?" asked Mr. Carroll eagerly, and with such a peculiar emphasis on the name as made me give an involuntary start. "Pardon me, madam. I should have said Mistress Frances Dalrymple; but your brother always speaks of you by your husband's name, and so has taught me to do the same."
'"My father wishes me to be called so," I said (wondering at the same time why I was making this explanation to a stranger, and much confused by the knowledge that my visitor's eyes had scarcely left my face since he entered the room), "and I am becoming so used to it, that—that——"
'"I understand," said Mr. Carroll, in a slow, quiet tone, which contrasted strangely with his former hurried, excited manner. "You are beginning to forget that you ever bore any other? Well, no doubt it is best that it should be so. Sir Bernard's policy has succeeded well. But I crave your pardon once more," he continued, as I coloured with surprise and embarrassment. "You are longing for news of your brother, and are justly wondering what right I have to allude to your private concerns. Perhaps, when you have read these letters, you will forgive me for forcing my presence on you; and if you do not, why, I will never trouble you with it again."
'I held out my hand eagerly for the packet, overjoyed at the sight of Oliver's well-known handwriting; but something in the tone of Mr. Carroll's voice made me pause and cast a puzzled, anxious glance at him before I opened my letter. He half smiled as his eyes met mine; and instantly such a flood of misty, bewildering recollections rushed across my mind, that I was obliged to cover my face with my hands and wonder vaguely where I was, before I could find voice enough to ask the question which was trembling on my lips. The large drawing-room at Horsemandown rose clear and distinct before me. I seemed to feel once more mamma's hand on my shoulder, pressing me forward, and to hear Sir Harry Mountfort's loud, jovial voice introducing, with mock formality, to Mistress Frances Dalrymple her future bridegroom, the Earl of Desmond. Was I dreaming? "Could it really be?" I began to ask myself. But before I had time to finish the sentence, or courage to look up, Mr. Carroll had made two steps forward, taken my hands in his, and said, "Frances, do you know me?" in a tone of such wistful anxiety, that I was compelled to answer.
'"Are you really Algernon?—I mean my Lord Desmond?" I stammered out, not because I doubted any longer, but because, in the entanglement of my ideas, I could think of nothing better to say.
'"I am indeed. Have I frightened you very much?" he exclaimed earnestly, as with crimson cheeks and beating heart I withdrew my hands, and sank into a chair. "Forgive me, madam. I have been too abrupt. I did not intend to part with my secret till you had been prepared for it by your brother's letter."
'"Oh no, I am not frightened, only very, very much surprised," I faltered. "I did not know it was safe for you to come to England. I never thought of seeing you here."