Purvis, meanwhile, spread his packet of papers before him, and began his search for Dalton's letter.
“No, that ain't it; that's from Foglass, all about Norwood, and his N-N-Newmarket affair. That 's a letter from Lord Gullston's valet, with such a droll ac-account of the whole family. Zoe recom-mended him; and the poor fellow 's very grateful, for he writes about all that goes on in the house. Lady G., it seems, has the temper of a f-f-fiend. Well, don't be im-impatient; I'll find your father's letter in a minute. He writes such a cr-cr-cramp old hand, one should detect it at once. I ta-take it that he 's a bit of a character, the old gen-gentleman. I 'm sure he is; but what have I done with his letter? Oh, here it is! here it is! and 'with haste' written on the corner, too.”
Kate caught the letter impatiently, and, without any thought for Purvis or the place, tore it open at once. In doing so, the enclosure fell to the ground without her perceiving it; and, stranger still, it escaped the attention of Purvis; but that worthy man, not exactly venturing to read over her shoulder, had established himself directly in front, where, with his double eye-glass, he scanned every change in her features during the perusal.
“All well at home, I hope, eh? How she changes color,” muttered he to himself. “Nobody ill; nobody dead, eh?” asked he, louder. “It must be something serious, though; she 's trembling like ague. Let me give you a chair, that is, if I can f-find one in this little den; they 've got nothing but d-divans all round it.” And he hurried forth into the larger salon in search of a seat.
It was not without considerable trouble to himself and inconvenience to various others that he at last succeeded, and returned to the boudoir with a massive arm-chair in his hands. But what was his dismay to find that Miss Dalton had made her escape in the mean while? In vain did he seek her through the salons, which now were rapidly thinning; the distinguished guests having already departed.
A stray group lingered here and there, conversing in a low tone; and around the fires were gathered little knots of ladies muffled and cloaked, and only waiting for the carriages. It was like a stage, when the performance was over. Scarcely deigning to notice the little man, who, with palpable keenness of scrutiny, pursued his search in every quarter, they gradually moved off, leaving Purvis alone to tread the “banquet-hall deserted.” The servants, as they extinguished the lights, passed and repassed him without remark; so that, defeated and disappointed, he was obliged at last to retire, sorrowfully confessing to his own heart how little success had attended his bold enterprise.
As he passed along the galleries and descended the stairs, he made various little efforts to open a conversation with some one or other of the servants; but these dignified officials responded to his questions in the dryest and shortest manner; and it was only as he reached the great gate of the palace that he chanced upon one courteous enough to hear him to the end in his oft-repeated question of “Who was th-th-that with the large st-st-star on his breast, and a wh-wh-white beard?”
The porter stared at the speaker, and said respectfully, “The signor probably means the Archduke?”
“Not the Archduke Fr-Fr-Fr—”
“Yes, sir,” said the man; and closed the heavy door after him, leaving Purvis in a state of astonishment, and as much shame as his nature permitted him to feel. Neither upon himself nor his sensations have we any intention to dwell; and leaving him to pursue his way homeward, we beg to return once more within those walls from which he had just taken his departure.