"Allez! monsieur," answered the man, "I see nothing."
And Skaife and Minnie passed in. How her heart and limbs trembled when she entered those rooms where he had so lately been! where he sat and talked, thought of, and perhaps so deeply regretted her! She stood in the centre of that studio, and turned round and round, and her pale face and figure, which moved so mechanically, as if afraid of a natural undulation, made her seem like a statue. Skaife had arranged all in his mind before bringing her, and in the space behind the bed in the alcove he concealed her. This room adjoined the studio by one door, and by an opposite from this latter you entered the saloon.
Skaife's idea had been, immediately on Tremenhere's entrance to lead him to speak of Minnie, and she, by creeping from her place of concealment, would be enabled to listen to all—he reserving to himself the task of keeping Miles at his easel, and thus preventing him from entering his bedroom, without giving her sufficient time to conceal herself. All this was admirably arranged; but in such plans there is always the presumption that nothing untoward will occur to mar their perfect completion. Miles entered at one o'clock, as appointed, and after wandering through his apartment, passing close to the half lifeless Minnie, he threw off his coat, and put on the artistic jacket of scarlet, in which he was in the habit of painting. Minnie through the curtains watched all this, and saw him stand in deep thought a moment, then, passing a weary hand over a wearier brow, he entered his studio, where Skaife stood very pale. He durst not follow him to his bedroom—it would have looked extraordinary his doing so; and so he stood, almost retaining his breath, expecting every moment to hear Minnie shriek forth the other's name—but all passed quietly, and Miles came out, and sat down to touch up Lady Dora's portrait before her arrival. The saloon, we have said, was on the opposite side to the bedroom, and facing Tremenhere's easel; from the saloon you passed into an antechamber, and thence out of the apartment. Skaife had calculated upon having the catastrophe over before Lady Dora's arrival, who would come in, and share the surprise, with Lord Randolph, of finding the long lost wife in her husband's fond arms. He knew that if Tremenhere could be led to speak of her again, as he had done to him, Minnie would no longer doubt the joy her coming would afford him, and at once rush forth. So it might most probably have been all smooth and fair sailing; but they were doomed to meet with some rocks yet, and one of these was the entrance, before the hour appointed, of Lady Dora and Lord Randolph Gray! Skaife, though a most patient man, would assuredly have sworn, but for the colour of his cloth—as it was, he stamped, and coloured violently.
"Trem.," said Lord Randolph, using the abbreviation by which he frequently addressed his friend, "I've brought Lady Dora before the hour, because I have a particular engagement, and must leave her in your care for half an hour."
Be it said, Lady Ripley imagined Lord Randolph was going to remain the whole time during her sitting, else her ideas of propriety, most justly, would have forbidden allowing her to stop alone in a painter's studio. Lord Randolph had no thought of harm of his friend, when Lady Dora said,—
"I am most anxious to get my sittings over for this Diana; so don't tell mamma you are going to leave me there alone, or she will not allow me to go."
English mothers, perhaps too freely, permit their daughters to walk out only accompanied by their intended husbands! French ones say, "The marriage may never take place; 'tis better to avoid bringing a girl's name in question."
Lord Randolph looked at "Diana," and at the fair original, and departed fearless and confiding. Lady Dora trembled with annoyance. Every moment was an hour. She was resolved to have an explanation; and how accomplish this with Skaife present? However, there was a fate to turn all to its will. This latter felt choking with impatience. He could not remain there all the period of the sitting, for nothing could be done until Lady Dora left. So he rose, and entering the bedroom, approached the alcove, where he had placed a chair for Minnie to rest upon; in a low whisper he told her the state of the case, and bade her be patient—all would go well. Be it remembered that, whatever his suspicions of the state of Lady Dora's heart, he had no proof, he knew nothing of the scarcely ambiguous conversations which took place between them, whenever they met. To collect his thoughts, he deemed it best to go out for a walk; consequently he went, to Lady Dora's great joy, and, pulling the outer door after him, thought he closed it, but he did not—it remained ajar.
Lady Dora sat some moments listening, then her impatience began to manifest itself by a movement of the foot. Tremenhere's calmness and cheerful ease drove her mad.
"Mr. Tremenhere," she said at last, "were you not surprised to see me dancing with your——with Mr. Burton, the other evening?"