"My Sister sent us to take her home with us."
"Miss Adeline was always kind; I hope she has overlooked my deception ere this?"
Sir Barry glances across the room where Dolores stands beside a cabinet of rare old china, her blue velvet and silk dress making a pleasant rustle as she moves about the pretty room, admiring the pictures and the ornaments. Sir Barry lets her be, he will not force his company upon anyone.
"Oh yes, long ago, my lad; we laugh at your masquerade now as a fine joke. I explained away all the difficulties. Now when can we see this sister Jean? Mr. Litchfield's voice breaks in upon Sir Barry's meditation.
"We can go now; ah!"—The door is thrown open, and Blondine's pretty face, radiant with welcome, appears.
"I just thought I would come over; I got your telegram, uncle Edward, and as you were not at the hotel I came here. I hope you will pardon me, Sir Barry, for invading your room in such an unceremonious way. Dolores, my darling, how are you?"
"We are going to the convent, Miss Gray, will you come?" asks Sir Barry, as he assists Dolores on with her coat.
"Do, dear," Dolores says, drawing on her fur gloves. "I hate to go, yet I want to."
Blondine is always ready and willing to go anywhere for a change, so consents. Sir Barry had said he would arrange some plan for taking Mr. Litchfield to the convent; this must be the way, and Blondine begins to feel a great excitement creeping around her. They arrive and are admitted by a sister, who takes them up-stairs to the Mother Superior's parlour, where a cosy fire burns in the polished grate.
"Will you see the mother St. Marguerite? as sister Jean has just come home and is too tired to see anyone to-night," asks the sister. This is just what Sir Barry wants, so he said if it were possible he would see mother St. Marguerite. Sir Barry is very restless; he walks up and down the pretty, homelike little room, until Blondine thinks she will go wild, if he does not sit down. Blondine's eyes are full of suppressed fire; she and Sir Barry are soon, any moment, to be either rewarded or mistaken in what they have long been patiently planning. There is a sound of approaching footsteps, Sir Barry wheels around his face in deep shadow; the door is opened softly, and mother St. Marguerite stands within the room.