We heard the door opened by one of the servants. Mr. Chandos took his hand off me and sat down again.
"It may be Dr. Laken, sir."
"No he could not be back yet."
In bustled Hickens, faster than was usual with that solemn personage.
"It's Miss Emily, sir," said he, addressing Mr. Chandos. "That is, Madame de Mellissie. Her foreign French name never comes pat to me."
Miss Emily was in the room ere Hickens had done speaking—bright, handsome, gay as ever.
"There's plenty of luggage, Hickens, mind; you must see to it with Pauline," were the first words she spoke. "And how are you, Harry?" she continued, putting up her mouth to be kissed.
"This is an unexpected visit, Emily," he said, as he took the kiss. "You should have written us word; and I would have met you at the station with the carriage. How did you come from thence?"
"Oh, I got a conveyance of some sort; a fly, or a chaise; I hardly know what it was, except that I believe it had no springs, for it shook me to pieces. How is mamma?"
"Wont you speak to me, Madame de Mellissie?" I asked, holding out my hand. I had stood there waiting for her to notice me which she did not appear to have the least intention of doing; waiting and waiting.