"Good night, Mrs. Gower," called Smyth, from the hall; "our carriage stops the way, and if I don't make a move, Lil never will," he says, meeting her.
"Mr. Dale is too fascinating," laughed his wife. "Good night, Elaine; Will thinks he hears baby crying, or he would not stir."
"Nice little baby, don't get in a fury 'cause mamma's gone to a play at the theatre," sang Smyth, jokingly.
"Did you really see anyone, Mrs. Dale?" had asked Buckingham, in a grave whisper.
"I really did; the—but hush, she returns."
"You look pale, Mrs. Gower," he said, kindly, "put me up anywhere to mount guard over you for to-night."
"Oh, no, I thank you, not for worlds," she said, nervously; but recovering herself, added, "you know I have Thomas, and Mrs. Dale may only have seen a shadow, like a cloud which will pass."
"Clouds sometimes precede a storm."
"But not always," she says, with a sudden resolve, "for if Mrs. Dale will stay with me all night, she will be its silver lining."
"Indeed, I shall with pleasure," she said, eagerly, adding, in mock condescension, "Good night, Mr. Dale."