"But for all that, she's here. Tell me, for God's sake!"
"Well, there's a French lady here--says she's French that's to say,--called Madame Poitevin, who might be Mrs. Hammond's twin sister."
"Ah!" Mitford gave a long sigh of relief. "I suppose she's attracted the usual amount of attention among all the people here, eh?"
"She would have, doubtless, had she ever courted it. But the truth is, she has never left her hotel."
"Never left her hotel!" echoed Mitford, obviously delighted. "Which is her hotel? where is she staying?"
"At the Russie, lower down the town."
"Here under a feigned name, and never leaving her rooms,--that's strange," said Mitford.
"Yes; must be dull for her," said little Aldermaston, looking up to see the effect his words had on his companion; "lives in strict seclusion."
"Does she indeed? Poor girl! poor Laura!"
"Yes,--only one person permitted to see her; only one who is allowed to mingle his tears with hers."