"I promised to tell you the story, Lady Ruth. If I were sure we would not be interrupted, I would be inclined to speak now, for I am about starting upon a mission, the result of which Heaven alone can foresee."
His earnestness impresses her ladyship; trust a bright girl for bridging over a trifling difficulty such as this.
"There is a little private parlor attached and generally empty," she suggests, artlessly.
"Just the ticket," he boldly exclaims.
In a few minutes they are seated alone in this bijou parlor; its decorations are quaint, even barbaric in their splendor, and a lover of the bizarre would happen upon such a scene with the keenest of pleasure.
"Here are some drawings we can be looking over," she suggests, and he nods eagerly, inwardly blessing her ready sagacity.
Thus they look harmless enough.
"Now I will play the lady confessor. What is it all about? Have you fallen into debt like a bad boy, and don't dare write the pater?"
He looks at her and laughs.
"You see the comical side of everything, Lady Ruth. This I fear bids fair to be a tragedy."