The girl had not long looked out before her pale complexion, which the fire had scarcely warmed, grew hot. She started, and looked into the room behind her nervously: then looked out again. She had seen standing in a nook of the wall opposite her, a figure she knew well. It was that of her lover, and he seemed to be watching the house. Timidly she waved her hand to him, and he, after looking up and down the lane, advanced to the window. He could do this safely, for it was the only window in the Toussaints' house which looked that way.
"Are you alone?" he asked softly, looking up at her.
She nodded.
"And my sisters?" he continued.
"Have gone to Philip Boyer's. He lives in one of the cottages on the left of the Duchess's yard."
"Ah! And you? Where is your father, Madeline?" he murmured.
"He has gone to take them. I am quite alone; and two minutes ago I was melancholy," she added, with a smile that should have made him happy.
"I want to talk to you," he replied gravely. "May I get up if I can, Madeline?"
She shook her head, which of course meant no. And she said, "It is impossible." But she still smiled.
There was a pipe which ran up the wall a couple of feet or so on one side of the casement. Before she well understood his purpose, or that he was in earnest he had gripped this and was halfway up to the window.