IN THE HOUR OF NEED.
It need scarcely be remarked that it is not usual for young ladies unattended to pay gentlemen visits at their chambers. Scandal is only too ready to seize upon the slightest excuse for the exercise of its malignity, and the fact, if it were known, that Lady Grace Peyton had been seen in Cecil Neville’s rooms would be quite sufficient to set evil tongues wagging.
All this flashed across Cecil Neville’s mind as she stood in the doorway, a picture of queenly beauty which seemed to light up the room, and made the sheriff’s officer stare with all his eyes.
Lord Cecil went forward, a slight flush on his face denoting his embarrassment.
“Lady Grace!” he said.
Then he stopped suddenly, remembering that it would be well not to mention her name before the man.
She bit her lip and looked from one to the other as she gave him her hand.
“I—I thought you were alone!” she said, in a low voice full of confusion and anxiety.
The officer rose and made a slight bow.
“I’ll step outside, my lord,” he said, respectfully, and he did so.