"Mr. Hope!" remonstrated Alice, lifting her feeble voice. "How can you indulge in these light spirits while things are so miserable?"
"Sighing and groaning won't make things better," he answered, sitting down on a sofa near to Alice. "Here's a seat for you, Fanny; come along," he added, pulling Frances to his side. "First and foremost, has anything come to light about that mysterious bracelet?"
"Net yet," sighed Alice. "But I have no rest: I am in hourly fear of it."
"Fear!" uttered Gerard, in astonishment.
Alice winced, and leaned her head upon her hand: she spoke in a low tone.
"You must understand what I mean. The affair has been productive of so much pain and annoyance to me, that I wish it could be ignored for ever."
"Though it left me under a cloud," said Gerard. "You must pardon me, if I cannot agree with you. My constant hope is, that daylight may soon be let in upon it. I assure you I have specially mentioned it in my prayers."
"Pray don't!" reproved Alice.
"I'm sure I have cause to mention it, for it is sending me into exile. That, and other things."
"It is the guilty only who flee, not the innocent," said Frances. "You don't mean what you say, Gerard."