e not
read. When she opened the boudoir window and so permitted Alban to
overhear her hurried words, it was as one who found the atmosphere of a
house insupportable and must breathe fresh air at any cost.

"Has my father returned, Fellows?"

"No, miss, he is not expected until late."

"Why did you not send the carriage to the station?"

"Mr. Gessner said that you were coming to-morrow, miss."

She flushed slightly at the retort and made as though to step out into
the garden--but hesitating an instant, she said:

"I have had nothing to eat since one o'clock, Fellows. I must have some
supper."

"Yes, miss."

"Anything will do--tell cook it does not matter. Has Lord Portcullis
called?"

"No, miss--not since yesterday."

"Or Mrs. Melville?"

"This afternoon. She asked for your address, miss--but I did not give
it."

"Quite right--I suppose that Captain Forrest did not come?" She turned
away as though not wishing to look the man in the face--a gesture which
Alban's quick eyes instantly perceived.

Fellows, on the other hand, permitted a smile to lurk for an instant
about the corners of his mouth before he said--

"I understood that Captain Forrest was at Brighton, miss."

The girl's face clouded perceptibly, and she loosened her cloak and
threw it from her shoulders as though it had become an insupportable
burden.

"If he calls to-morrow, I do not wish to see him. Please tell them
all--I will not see him."

The butler smiled again, but answered, "Yes, miss."

Anna Gessner herself, still hesitating upon the threshold suddenly
remembered another interest and referred to it with no less ardor.

"Oh, that reminds me, Fellows. Has my father spoken again of that
dreadful silly business?"

"Concerning the young gentleman, miss?"

She heard him with unutterable contempt.

"The beggar-boy that he wishes to bring to this house. Did he speak of
him to-night?"

Fellows came a step nearer and, hushing his voice, he said, with a
servant's love of a dramatic reply:

"Mr. Kennedy is in the garden now, miss--indeed, I think he's sitting
near the vestibule."

She looked at him astonished. Ugly passions of disappointment and
thwarted desire betrayed themselves in the swift turn and the angry
pursing of her lips. Of her father's intentions in bringing this
beggar-boy to the house, she knew nothing at all. It seemed to her one
of those mad acts for which no sane apology could be offered.

"He is here now, Fel