Before sunset, Miss Arthur was quartered at the Bellair inn. She had dispatched Mr. Percy a note the day before, bidding him delay his visit. Now she was under the same roof with him, greatly to her delight, and his disgust.
John Arthur had not fared so well at the hands of the learned physician. He had swallowed his powders faithfully and hopefully, but the morning found him languid and dismal, with aching brain and nauseated stomach.
The doctor shook his head, and bade him prepare for a slight attack of the fever. It promised to be very slight, but he must keep his room, for a few days at least, and attend to his medicine and his diet.
And so the drama had commenced in earnest.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A STARTLING EPISODE.
Claire Keith had said truly that the woman across the way would prove interesting to her.
She grew more and more fond of watching for the tall form, with its trailing robes of black, its proudly-poised, heavily-veiled head, and slow, graceful movement. Sometimes she saw a white hand pull away the heavy curtains, and knew that the owner of the hand was looking out upon the street. But the face was always in shadow. She could not catch the slightest glimpse of it.