But if Madeline was astute, Claire, too, was beginning to develop that quality. So when the latter young lady read this letter, she smiled and said: "The dear little hypocrite! As if she could deceive me by this evidently studied neglect. Oh! you proud, stiff-necked, little detective!"
And their game of cross purposes went on.
Madeline had sealed her letters, and was about to reach for her hat preparatory to hastening with them to the post office, when her attention was arrested by a sound, slight but unusual, and not far away. She stood erect, silent, motionless, listening intently. Presently the sound was repeated, and then a look of intelligence passed over the girl's face.
"Some one is in the deserted rooms," she thought. And she abandoned for the present her purpose of going out.
There was but one way to approach the closed-up rooms, and that way led past the door of Madeline's room.
A few paces beyond her door, the hall connecting the west wing with the more modern portion, made a sharp curve and opened into the main hall of that floor. Céline Leroque opened her door cautiously, having first donned her not very becoming walking attire. Then she took up her position just outside the angle of the western hall, and so close to it that if an approach was made from below, she could easily retire behind the angle.
"She stood erect, silent, motionless."—[page 248.]
She had grown heartily tired of her sentinel task when, at last, a soft rustle was heard near at hand. Céline turned so quickly into the narrower hall that she fairly ran upon and stopped—Mrs. John Arthur! who uttered a sharp exclamation expressive of surprise and annoyance.