Meantime the steps gradually drew nearer and nearer; and now and then a low and suppressed whisper on the stairs met the baronet's ears.
A vague suspicion that some adventure, which those who were interested in it were anxious to conduct with as much secrecy as possible, was in progress, now entered the mind of Sir Rupert Harborough. He accordingly became all attention.
And now the steps ceased to echo upon the stairs, but advanced towards the front door.
The hall was pitch-dark; but the baronet was satisfied that two persons—a male and female—were the actors in the proceeding which now interested him; and all doubt on this head was banished from his mind when they halted within a few feet of the corner where he and his mistress were concealed.
Then the whispering between the two persons whose conduct he was watching re-commenced.
"Farewell, dearest Cecilia," said the low and subdued voice of a man.
"Farewell, beloved Fitzhardinge," answered another voice, with whose intonation, in spite of the whisper in which it spoke, the baronet was full well acquainted.
Then there was the billing murmur of kisses, which continued for some moments.
"When shall we meet again, dearest?" demanded Fitzhardinge, still in the same low tone.
"To-night—at the usual hour I will admit you," returned Lady Cecilia. "Sir Rupert goes to France to-night with his splendid friend Chichester."