The lurcher, that had kept silent during the stormy interview between Bet and her rustic admirer, now broke out in a fresh bravura of baying.
“Is it Will again?” cried the girl, gliding back to the window and looking out. “No, it can’t be him: the dog looks the other way. It’s either father coming back, or—’Tis he! ’tis he!
“What am I to do? I must open the door. If he sees it shut he may not think of coming in; I wish him to come in!”
As she said this, she glided up to the doorway, and pushing back the bar, gently drew open the door.
She did not show herself in the entrance. A quick instinct hindered her. Were she to do so, the visitor might simply make an inquiry; and, being answered that her father was not at home, might turn back or pass on. This would not suit her purpose: since she wished him to come in.
He was afoot. That augured well. She watched him through the window as he drew near. She watched him with a throbbing bosom.
Volume Two—Chapter Seven.
Richard Scarthe, Captain of the King’s Cuirassiers, and confidant of the Queen, was seated in his apartment in the mansion of Sir Marmaduke Wade.