“Will you go now? Ought not Lord De Courcy—” began Ray, hesitatingly, when she interrupted him with:
“Oh, yes, yes! He must hear all, and come with us, too. Excuse me one moment. I think he must have come.”
She passed from the room, but oh, with a face so different from that she wore when entering! Then she had fancied herself childless, and now two had been given her, as if from the dead. And Reginald Germaine, too—he whom she thought lost at sea—was living yet, and she was to see him once more. She trembled so, as she thought of him, that she almost sunk down as she walked.
The two in the parlor saw a tall, distinguished-looking man pass in through the front-door, and the next moment a quick, decided footstep in the hall, and then a clear, pleasant voice, saying:
“Got back, you see, Maude. Why, what’s the matter?”
Her reply was too low to be heard, but both passed upstairs together.
“Lord De Courcy,” said Ranty, listening.
“I thought you said her ladyship knew you?” said Ray. “She did not seem to do so while here.”
“All your fault,” said Ranty. “You didn’t give her time to bless herself before you opened your broadside of knock-down facts; and after hearing all the astounding and unexpected things you had to tell her, of course it couldn’t be expected she could think of a common, every-day mortal like me. Heigho! And so Erminie is a great lady now? I suppose I ought to be glad, Ray, but, if you’ll believe it, upon my word and honor, I’m not. Of course, she’ll have hundreds of suitors, now; and even if she loved me—which I don’t suppose she did—that high and mighty seignior, her father, wouldn’t let her have anything to do with a poor sailor. Ray, I tell you what, ever since I heard it I have been wishing, in the most diabolical manner, that it might turn out to be a false report. It may not sound friendly nor Christian-like to wish it, Ray, but I do wish it—I wish she had not a red cent in the world. I might have had some chance, then.”
Ray, looking earnestly and thoughtfully at the flowers in the carpet, heard scarcely a word of this address. Ranty watched him for a short time, as if waiting for an answer; and then leaning back in his chair, began whistling softly, as if keeping up an accompaniment to his thoughts.