"She is residing with Mrs. Courland, I believe," replied Alrina, "at Ashley Hall."
"Thank you, Alrina. That was all I wanted to know. Now, you can go to your room again, if you don't feel well, and let the servant bring you up some tea. Good night."
So, then, this terrible ordeal in the "private room," which Alrina had dreaded so much but a few minutes before, and racked her brain to imagine what her father could possibly want of her, had ended in his asking a plain simple question or two, and her giving him answers to match. And although she had intended to ask him why he had been so cruel as to order that dangerous feat to be performed by that young stranger, and many other important questions, she had been dismissed so abruptly, that she had actually said nothing.
The whole scene seemed so absurd that she burst into a hearty laugh when she reached her own little bedroom once more.
CHAPTER XIV. MRS. BROWN TELLS THE CONJUROR A BIT OF HER MIND.
Poor Mr. Brown! he remained on the rocks long after the other spectators had left, and would have remained there much longer, had he not been roused from his reverie by a gentle tap on his shoulder.
"Billy," said he, looking up; "let's go into the stable and have a look at Jessie, boy. She must have a good rub-down and a warm mash to-night."
"Come along," said the boy. And, taking Mr. Brown by the arm, he led him home to his amiable but eccentric wife.