“Well, what’s the matter?” she inquired, scanning the servitor sharply.
“A gentleman in the library wishes to speak to you, madame. He will not give his card,” said the old man.
“I can’t be troubled now to see anyone,” she replied petulantly.
“Excuse me, madame,” he exclaimed, bowing. “But I think he desires to see you on very urgent business.”
“Do you know what it is? Haven’t I told you often to always ask strangers what they want to see me about?”
“I have asked him, madame, but he refused to tell me,” said Jacob, undisturbed by her impatience. “He said he wished to see you at once and alone.”
“Alone,” she repeated, in surprise. “I wonder who it can be?”
Then reflecting that any business at that hour must be of importance, she directed the servant to take her to where the stranger was in waiting.
The library, a small, quaint old room, was situated in a wing of the building, at some distance from where the ball was in progress, and was virtually shut off from the rest of the house by baize doors placed halfway down the corridor.
Jacob led the way, and, ceremoniously throwing open the door of the apartment, announced the advent of his mistress. The two shaded candles which stood upon the writing-table threw such a dim light over the sombre room that when she entered she did not for the moment recognise her visitor.