"Alone!" and he started. "Then why this signal?" and he pointed to the rose.
"I cannot tell you. Is Lady Dora Vaughan here to-night?"
"By heavens, you know them all! Who are you? Pray, tell me; confide in my honour—I have never broken faith in my life!"
A sigh, almost a sob, escaped from her bosom. He turned amazed. Tremenhere was not a vain man, but the strangeness of the whole scene made him ask himself, whether it might not be some love-sick girl's escapade; but the question, for which he could find no answer, was, "Who can she be?" Her abrupt mention of Lady Dora's name confirmed this idea.
"Lady Dora is here," he said, "that is, she was to be; but I came alone. I have seen no one but yourself, my fair incognita, and now let me ask, wherefore were you beneath the clock?"
"Because—because, 'tis a good point for observation; and I was looking for some one."
"Then I have carried you away—shall we seek them?"
"No, I am content; that is, I have changed my mind."
"How did you know the reputation 'the clock' has as a point of observation, as you term it; we call it one of rendezvous—have you been here often?"
"Heaven forbid! 'tis my first visit."