"I saw her in your chambers," answered the Warden, slowly. "I passed three times yesterday, and she was sitting in the centre window each time."
"Pshaw! You dreamt it in your sleep last night. Margaret's in Vellore, I assure you."
"I saw her," said the Warden, softly; "or, at least, I saw some lady, whom I naturally presumed to be your sister."
Ernest, who had not colored for fifteen years, and would have defied man or woman to confuse him, flushed to his very temples.
"You are mistaken," he said, decidedly. "There is no woman in my rooms."
Eusebius raised his eyebrows, bent his head, smiled and sighed. More polite disbelief was never expressed. The Miss Ruskinstones would have blushed if they could; as they could not, they drew themselves bolt upright, and put their parasols between them and the reprobate. Nina, whose hand was still in Vaughan's arm, turned white, and flashed a quick, upward look at him; then, with a glance at Eusebius, as fiery as the eternal wrath that that dear divine was accustomed to deal out so largely to other people, she led Ernest up to her father, who being providentially somewhat deaf, had not heard this by-play, and said, to her cousin's horror, "Papa, dear, Mr. Vaughan wants you to dine with him at Tortoni's to-night, to meet M. de Vendanges. You will be very happy, won't you?"
Ernest pressed her little hand against his side, and thanked her with his eyes.
Gordon was propitiated for that day; he was not likely to quarrel with a man who could introduce him to "Son Altesse Monseigneur le Duc de Vendanges."