The two have moved on into the duke’s study, and Repton has hurried off to command his Grace’s supper to be served immediately. He has pompous manners, has Repton, a high opinion of himself, and certain notions of his own importance and dignity, but he is a good servant nevertheless, and a faithful one. He is not of the Stuggins’ class. He would as soon dream of keeping his Grace waiting for his supper as of jumping over the moon.
The consequence is, that in the twinkling of an eye supper is served in the study. And the two friends, as they sit discussing it, wander off on some favourite theme, so that the time passes quicker than they think. Suddenly they are startled by hearing a bell peal. The duke springs to his feet.
“Good heavens! What can that be?” he exclaims nervously. “Is it Bernie’s bell; is the boy ill, I wonder? I must go and see. It’s past two o’clock.”
“It’s the front door bell, I think,” says Hector D’Estrange. “Hark, Evie! there are voices in the entrance hall. Open the door and listen.”
The duke does so. A woman’s voice is plainly distinguishable, appealing to Repton.
“For God’s sake,” he hears her saying, “let me see the duke. I must see him. It is a matter of life and death. If you tell him it is for Mr. D’Estrange he will see me, I know.”
“I have no orders from his Grace to admit you,” answers Repton pompously, “and certainly cannot disturb his Grace at this hour. You must write or call again to-morrow morning, and all I can do is to report your wish to his Grace.”
He bangs the door to as he speaks, but the next moment steps sound behind him, and Hector D’Estrange has seized the handle and pulled it open. His face is very white, and there is terror in his eyes.
“Rita!” he calls out, “is that you, Rita? My God! what brings you here?”
“Mr. D’Estrange!” she bursts out with a low, glad cry. “Oh, are you here? Thank God! thank God!”