“I was only musing, my dear child,” hastily responded Mrs. Mortimer, “upon the misfortunes of this strange world of ours. Doubtless some dreadful affliction had touched the brain of that poor old man of whom you have been speaking.”
“Such was indeed my fear,” exclaimed Agnes; “and, much as I pitied him, I confess that I was greatly relieved when he took his departure.”
“Was his visit a long one, my dear young lady?” asked Mrs. Mortimer.
“He remained here for upwards of an hour,” was the reply.
“And was it in the evening that he called?” inquired the old woman.
“Yes—between eight and nine o’clock; and he rose from his seat as the time-piece struck ten,” responded Agnes. “I know not precisely wherefore—but it is nevertheless true that his presence began to alarm me, although I had done him no injury, and indeed had never in my life seen him before. But there was such a wild expression in his eyes——”
“Ah! doubtless the poor old man was overcome by many painful recollections,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “I suppose he did not mention his name to you, Miss Vernon?”
“No—and I did not like to ask him,” was the frank and ingenuous reply. “His mind was evidently much unsettled,—for it alternated between a profound grief and a restless excitement—so that while he was here, I was at one moment moved to sympathise with him, and at another forced to regard him with vague apprehension. When he spoke of the fact that he himself had once been the occupant of this dwelling, he glanced hastily around the parlour, and murmured three or four times in a tone scarcely audible, ‘This is the very room—the very room!’ I could not divine what he meant, and of course dared not ask him,” added Agnes, with that charming ingenuousness of manner which denoted the pure child of nature, untainted by the artificial formalities of a vitiated state of society.
“How long have you resided here, Miss?” inquired the old woman, after a brief pause, during which she reflected on all that the beauteous girl had just told her,—at the same time chuckling inwardly at the certainty of having ascertained two grand facts: namely, that Torrens was possessed of plenty of gold, and that he was in London.
“I have lived in this pretty house for nearly three years, madam,” answered Agnes. “Before that period I——But now,” she added, checking herself, “I am again troubling you with my own affairs, whereas you have sufficient upon your mind to engross all your attention. Oh! yes—you must have,” exclaimed the artless girl,—“having only just returned to England after so long an absence in India! But you did not tell me whether you recognised in the old gentleman of whom I have been speaking, any relative or friend—any person, in fine, in whom you are interested.”