"That was wise. Good night, Reuben."
"Good night. I am going to pray."
"And I—am going to bed and to sleep."
But she did not sleep as readily as she had anticipated. The events of the day and evening, Sir Joshua's guests, the gamblers at Brooks's with their shepherd hats, the dangers encountered, her new friend Bella, the mysterious personage who had, as it seemed, received orders to plan her ruin, yet had protected her,—all these conflicting subjects created a tumult in her brain.
She cogitated upon the singular destiny which had cast her between the love of a Reuben and that of a Lord Mowbray, between a saint and a demon.
And when at last she sank into the unconsciousness of sleep, between these two personalities, equally imperious and passionate, but actuated by an opposite sentiment, there glided the pale, melancholy visage of Francis Monday.
CHAPTER V.
A STRANGE EDUCATION.
It was late on the following morning ere Lord Mowbray's valet ventured to enter his lordship's chamber. The daylight fell upon the red and swollen eyelids of the sleeper, who opened his eyes and uttered an oath. It was evident that the young nobleman was not in his best humor.