"Who?" sharply interrupted Sibylla.
Mr. Gordon looked surprised. Her tone had betrayed something of eager alarm, not to say terror.
"Captain Cannonby, Mrs. Verner. A friend of mine just returned from Australia. Business took him to Paris as soon as he landed."
"Is he from the Melbourne port? Is his Christian name Lawrence?" she reiterated breathlessly.
"Yes—to both questions," replied Mr. Gordon.
Sibylla shrieked, and lifted her handkerchief to her face. They gathered round her in consternation. One offering smelling-salts, one running for water. Lionel gently drew the handkerchief from her face. It was white as death.
"What ails you, my dear?" he whispered.
She seemed to recover her equanimity as suddenly as she had lost it, and the colour began to appear in her cheeks again.
"His name—Cannonby's—puts me in mind of those unhappy days," she said, not in the low tone used by her husband, but aloud—speaking, in fact, to all around her. "I did not know Captain Cannonby had returned. When did he come, Mr. Gordon?"