"Forgive me, Reginald," murmured Cecilia, casting her arms around him; "but I was afraid you were unfaithful to me."
"And to set at rest your own selfish jealousies, you would compromise me," said the rector. "Do you know that my housekeeper has overheard me moving about at night when I have admitted you, or descended the stairs to let you out before day-light? and, although she attributes that fact to restlessness on my part, it would require but little to excite her suspicions."
"Again I say forgive me, Reginald," whispered Cecilia, accompanying her words with voluptuous kisses, so that in a short time the rector's ill-humour was completely subdued. "Tell me," she added, "may I not visit you again? say—shall I come to you to-night?"
"No, Cecilia," answered the clergyman; "we must exercise some caution. Let a week or a fortnight pass, so that my housekeeper may cease to think upon the subject which has attracted her notice and alarmed me; and then—then, dearest Cecilia, we will set no bounds to our enjoyment."
Reginald Tracy now rose, embraced his mistress, and took his leave.
But it was not to return home immediately.
His mind was filled with Ellen's image; and, even while in the society of Lady Cecilia, he had been pondering upon the means of gratifying his new passion—of possessing that lovely creature of whose charms he had caught glimpses that had inflamed him to madness.
Amongst a thousand vague plans, one had struck him. He remembered the horrible old woman of Golden Lane, who had enticed him to her house under a pretence of seeing a beautiful statue, and had thereby led him back to the arms of Lady Cecilia Harborough.
To her he was determined to proceed; for he thought that he might be aided in his designs by that ingenuity of which he had received so signal a proof.
Accordingly, wrapping himself up in his cloak, he repaired directly from Lady Cecilia's house to the vile court in Golden Lane.