Lady Constantine flung down the old-fashioned lacework, whose beauties
she had been pointing out to Swithin, and exclaimed, 'Who can it be?

Not Louis, surely?' They listened. An arrival was such a phenomenon at this unfrequented
mansion, and particularly a late arrival, that no servant was on the
alert to respond to the call; and the visitor rang again, more loudly
than before. Sounds of the tardy opening and shutting of a passage-door
from the kitchen quarter then reached their ears, and Viviette went into
the corridor to hearken more attentively. In a few minutes she returned
to the wardrobe-room in which she had left Swithin.

'Yes; it is my brother!' she said with difficult composure. 'I just
caught his voice. He has no doubt come back from Paris to stay. This is
a rather vexatious, indolent way he has, never to write to prepare me!' 'I can easily go away,' said Swithin.

By this time, however, her brother had been shown into the house, and the
footsteps of the page were audible, coming in search of Lady Constantine.

'If you will wait there a moment,' she said, directing St. Cleeve into a
bedchamber which adjoined; 'you will be quite safe from interruption, and
I will quickly come back.' Taking the light she left him.

Swithin waited in darkness. Not more than ten minutes had passed when a
whisper in her voice came through the keyhole. He opened the door.