Who should be in the back of the box but Frank Lovell himself! Mischievous Mrs. Lumley, was this your doing? Before I went away I had promised to meet him next morning in the park, and he was to explain all.
CHAPTER XVII.
I hope I have as much command of countenance as falls to the lot of any lady who don't paint; but when I returned from my walk in the Park the following morning I must have looked flushed or excited, or in some way different from usual. I met John at the corner of Lowndes Street, and he stopped short, and looked me piercingly in the face.
"Where have you been, Kate?" said he, without waiting to bid me "good-morning" or anything.
"A little stroll in the Park, John," was my reply.
"By yourself?" he asked, and his face looked pale and grave.
I cannot tell a story, so I hesitated and stammered,—
"No, not exactly—at least I met an acquaintance near the Serpentine."
"Have you any objection to telling me who it was?" said John, and his voice sounded very strange.
"Good gracious! what's the matter?" I asked, in my turn. "Has anything happened? Are you ill, John? you look quite upset."