“Wait for me one moment here, dear Miss Turquand,” she said. “I will run and ask papa if I must return to-night. Oh! I do hope he will let me stay till to-morrow with you. Do you leave in the morning?”
“Lady Quaintree arranges everything,” answered Lois. “It will be just as she orders.”
Blanche went back to the drawing-room. Lois remained on the terrace, idly watching the weird shadows and sharp, silvery lights.
A step on the lower terrace for a moment alarmed her. But a glance assured her that Captain Desfrayne was the intruder on the quiet of that place. He was near enough to be able to address her without raising his voice.
Not one word of the dialogue just interrupted had reached his ears.
“Are you not afraid of taking cold, Miss Turquand?” he asked, really for want of something better to say.
“Thanks, no. It is such a lovely summer’s night. I am going back to the drawing-room in one moment,” replied Lois.
With a quick movement, Paul Desfrayne ascended the steps leading from the lower to the upper terrace, and in an instant was by her side.
“Miss Turquand——” he began, then his courage and the power of expressing his scarcely formed ideas utterly failed him.
Lois’ heart throbbed painfully for a moment or two. She looked at Captain Desfrayne, then averted her eyes without saying a word.