There was a flavour of wild adventure about the whole expedition that made her heart beat unusually fast. The idea of taking Laurence by storm in his musty chambers, of cajoling him into a more amenable frame of mind, of dining with him tête-à-tête, of trying the effect of her much-augmented charms upon her own husband—for she had now fully learnt to know the value of youth, beauty, and dress—all carried her away out of her usual somewhat languorous frame of mind.
She felt a little nervous as she stepped out of the hansom in the vicinity of the gloomy old Temple, and proceeded to Laurence’s chambers, as before, on foot.
Fortunately the pavement was dry, and her dainty shoes were none the worse.
She came to the door, and rang a pretty loud peal this time, smiling to herself as she thought of Laurence sitting over his solitary meal, probably by the light of an equally solitary candle.
The door was opened by a curious jerk, and by some invisible agency, and she beheld before her, half way up the stairs, the bearded beldame, carrying a heavy tray, who, unable to turn her head, shouted out querulously—“If that’s the washing, come in. I hope to gracious you’ve done his shirts a bit better nor last week. They were a sight; and his collars! deary, deary me!”
And thus ejaculating, she rounded the staircase, and was lost to view; but still she shouted, though her voice did not come like a falling star.
“You can go in by the other door, and lay them in his bedroom, and leave the basket.”
Madeline was half suffocated with suppressed laughter as she tripped quickly up after this authoritative old person, and as she went she removed her head gear, and when she came to the top landing, she rapidly divested herself of her long cloak.
The old woman was already in the outer office, which was lit, and had deposited her load upon a table when, hearing a rustle and a footfall, she turned and beheld Madeline—in other words, a tall, lovely young lady, wearing a yellow evening dress, with diamond buttons, diamonds in her hair, and carrying a huge painted fan in her exquisitely gloved hands. No pen could convey any idea of her amazement, no brush seize the expression of her countenance, as she staggered back against the nearest desk, with limp arms, protruding eyes, and open mouth, which presently uttered, in a loud and startled key, the one word “Laws!”