'Yes, quite; isn't he?' said Tom Lydyeard, who only caught the last word. 'They call him "l'enfant terrible," and say, for all that mild and innocent look of his, that he is the very mischief when he takes a fancy. See! this is Forestfield coming this way.'
As he spoke there advanced towards them a small slight man, with delicate effeminate features, sunken eyes, and a hard cruel mouth. He nodded to Lydyeard and stared rather insolently at Uffington as he passed.
'I don't like that man's looks,' said Uffington. 'I have studied physiognomy a good deal in the course of my wanderings, and I scarcely ever saw a more secretive, untrustworthy face. I should think that poor girl yonder must sooner or later have a bad time with such a man.'
* * * * * *
Nugent Uffington would not have said differently had he seen and heard what was passing in the box on the grand tier. M. de Tournefort chatted very pleasantly with the Duchess of Melrose, who had been accustomed to admiration for thirty years, and who still enjoyed it; but when another gentleman came into the box, the Frenchman ceded the chair by her grace's side, and, taking advantage of an opportunity when the duchess and the new-comer were in animated conversation about the diamonds of the ambassadress opposite, managed to whisper in Lady Forestfield's ear,
'We have been watched, and Forestfield knows all!'
A bright flush mantled over her neck and mounted to the roots of her hair; then faded away, leaving her whiter than before. The hand holding her glass trembled, and her lips twitched convulsively; but after a minute she managed to regain her self-control, and without looking at him, she said, in a voice which he alone could hear, the one word, 'Go!'
[CHAPTER II.]
LADY FORESTFIELD AT HOME.
'We have been watched, and Forestfield knows all!' Those words seemed to have crept into Lady Forestfield's heart, deadening its action and stupefying her brain. She sat perfectly motionless until just before the curtain fell, then rose, accompanied by the duchess and attended by the two gentlemen who had subsequently come into the box, and sought her carriage. While waiting in the crush-room, in reply to a question put, she scarcely knew by whom, she pleaded a severe headache, and excused herself from seeing any more of her friends that night. The after-theatre suppers at Lady Forestfield's house in Seamore-place were renowned, and the Duchess of Melrose, who had come to that sensible time of life when eating is regarded as something more than the mere swallowing of food, and both the attendant sprites who wanted to fill up a couple of hours before going to Pratt's, were disappointed; but Lady Forestfield's look was so dazed and colourless and helpless, that it was evident that her plea was no pretence, and the duchess took advantage of an opportunity to ask her in a whisper if anything had happened.