“I am inclined to think that was Mr. Mahone’s meaning,” answered Ellen, holding up her veil again and admiring it with her head on one side like a heron looking at his shadow in the water. “But it was all for my sake, so you must not think hard of him.”
“Miss Post, my Ellen!”
The voice which uttered these words came from the kitchen out of which a door opened. Then Mr. Mahone appeared.
“Your Adonis,” said Miss Spicer with a short laugh.
“No,” answered Ellen, innocently, “his name is Mahone.”
“I beg pardon,” said the footman, advancing into the room, “I thought this young lady was alone. Boyce has just come in, would you like to speak with him?”
Ellen looked at Miss Spicer, who nodded her head.
“He can come in if you desire,” said Ellen with dignity, “but first allow me to put these garments out of sight.”
Directly the footman entered the room again, followed by Boyce, who presented himself with an air of mingled awkwardness and audacity that would have excited either anger or ridicule in Miss Spicer at any other time; now her mind was occupied with the business in hand, so she watched him with keen interest.
“This young man has brought me word that the person whom you take so much interest in is safe in prison and will be examined to-day,” said Mahone, addressing Ellen, but looking at the young lady. “He has just come from the Tombs.”