He paused for a few moments, and then gently tapped at the door, which was opened by Agatha, who, pale as ashes, started back at beholding him.
“Agatha, dear, what ails you?” inquired the earl, not knowing at the time what to say. “You seem scared, my lass.”
“Oh, my lord,” exclaimed the maid, “you have returned. Heaven be praised for that!”
“Where is madame?” was the next question.
“She is out—gone to attend upon a neighbour who is dangerously ill. She will not return till the morning.”
The earl was thankful for this piece of information.
“Well, it is very good of her,” said he, entering the parlour.
“And you——” cried the maid, glancing at him with a look of wonderment.
“I am right enough. Where is Mademoiselle Theresa?”
“She has retired to rest—has been watching and waiting for you till she is fairly worn out.”