'Because that mysterious fellow is with her now.'
'Where?'
'In the arched alcove off the drawing-room. I know not what he has been saying to her, but the effect of his presence is to fill her with grief and agitation; these are manifest enough, whatever may be the secret tie or sympathy between them.'
They were for the present alone, Chute and Vane.
The gentlemen had all gone unanimously to the smoking-room, and the voices of the ladies were heard merrily talking in the upper corridors, in anticipation of a ball on the morrow, for which the gayest and richest of toilettes that Paris and Regent Street could produce were spread on more than one bed to be exultingly contemplated.
Trevor Chute gave Jerry a grave and inquiring glance, and with soldierlike promptitude stepped quickly towards the drawing-room.
'She declined to go with us to the evensong, and this is the reason why!' resumed Vane, bitterly. 'There—he is beside her still!'
Ida now reclined with her face upward, and the pure outline of her profile could be distinctly seen against the dark background of the alcove, as also the dazzling whiteness of her hands, which were crossed upon her bosom. Over her hung the stranger, with his face so closely bowed to hers that his features could not be seen.
'She is asleep or in a faint,' said Jerry, as they paused.
'This man's figure is familiar to me—quite,' said Chute; 'where have I seen him before?