[CHAPTER XXXII.]
While Miss Chandler sat there complacently waiting for some one to conduct her back to the cell where she had passed the early morning hours, or tell her that the carriage was waiting to take her to her home, an officer in uniform entered, bearing a card. He gave it to her with a ceremony that under other circumstances might have been amusing.
She took it with a loftiness of bearing extremely out of keeping with her unfortunate position, and in the same manner that she might have spoken the words to Leonard Chandler's servant, she said:
"Admit him!"
A moment later Lynde Pyne was shown in.
He came forward with extended hands and kissed her as was his wont.
"I don't know how to express my sympathy for you in a trial like this," he said gently. "It must be horrible!"
"A ghastly sort of mistake," she replied, with a little shuddering laugh intended to be pretty. "I must apologize to you for the absurdity of my dress. Fancy receiving one in the morning in a gown like this."
Pyne gazed at her in absolute amazement. Had she taken leave of her senses that she could deliberately jest under circumstances like those?