“You are La Masque!” said Leoline trembling with nervous dread.
“I am, and no stranger to you; though perhaps you think so. Is it your habit every night to look out of your window in full dress until morning?”
“How did you enter?” asked Leoline, her curiosity overcoming for a moment even her fear.
“Through the door. Not a difficult thing, either, if you leave it wide open every night, as it is this.”
“Was it open?” said Leoline, in dismay. “I never knew it.”
“Ah! then it was not you who went out last. Who was it?”
“It was—was—” Leoline's cheeks were scarlet; “it was a friend!”
“A somewhat late hour for one's friends to visit,” said La Masque, sarcastically; “and you should learn the precaution of seeing them to the door and fastening it after them.”
“Rest assured, I shall do so for the future,” said Leoline, with a look that would have reminded Sir Norman of Miranda had he seen it. “I scarcely expected the honor of any more visits, particularly from strangers to-night.”
“Civil, that! Will you ask me to sit down, or am I to consider myself an unseasonable intruder, and depart?”