The lady smiled again, now with a curve of distrustful scorn on her red lips.
"Perhaps he failed in giving your message earlier, and in his desire to please you has forsaken us."
"Perhaps," was the indifferent reply. Then the old man moved quietly away, and speaking a gracious word here and there, glided out of the room.
Later in the evening, Lady Rose had left her book of engravings, and stood shrouded in the sweeping draperies of the great window, looking out upon the park. Directly she saw the figure of her host gliding across the terrace, which, in that place, seemed flagged with silver, the moonlight lay so full upon it. The next moment he was lost in the blackest shadows of the park.
"He has gone to seek him! Now I shall know the worst," she thought, while quick thrills of hope and dread shot like lances through her frame. "I could not stoop to spy upon him, but a father is different, and, once on the alert, will be implacable."
While these thoughts were in her mind, the girl gave a sudden start, and grasped at the silken curtains, while a faint shivering came over her, that seemed like coming death.
For deep in the woods of the park, where the gardener's cottage stood, she heard the sharp report of a gun.
"Great Heaven! What can it mean?" she cried; clasping her hands. "What can it mean?"