"Yes, but if he or they, I suppose, are to come with 'mouth full of news,' to tell publicly, I think he is wrong not to let it be known, otherwise they (some of them) may not appear until the ball opens."
"Let it be as he wishes, dear uncle; they are epicurean enough not to fail your good board, even though ignorant of the highly seasoned desert. But some one sneezed! we have a listener! yes," she continued breathlessly, "my hearing is very acute, and see! something between a man and woman, gliding softly down the dim corridor."
"Yes, we had better separate; go and rest, dear; we have, I fear, been talking to the Hall through some one else, and I feel somewhat excited over your news and shall smoke it off."
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
MADAME IN A FELINE MOOD.
A window in the library looked out upon the avenue, and a carriage approaching could be distinctly seen. Vaura, in the long ago, had frequently sat in this window, to watch the return of her uncle; aye, and of the man whom she now loved better than life itself. She was sure she could distinguish a conveyance from the village, and the occupants devoid of the gay trappings of revelry, from the guests in their comfortable carriages. Accordingly, as Madame had changed (for to-night), the dinner hour to half-past nine, at nine o'clock, Vaura, a soft beam of loveliness, with light foot-fall, entered the library and took her station at the watch-tower above mentioned. She was scarcely seated ere she was aware she was not the only occupant of what she had felt sure would be a deserted room; she would have risen, but her heart was there, and the words she heard chained her to the spot; the voices were those of Mrs. Haughton and of Major Delrose.
"I will have my way, Kate!"
"You will, I know; but can't you wait?"
"What for? For you to have Trevalyon fooling round you. Gad, if he comes near you, I'll shoot him."
"I am sorry I told you Melty followed them and heard."