dies, one
of them raised a curtain, and admitted him into the large cool twilight
hall, so dark that, with eyes dazzled by the full glare of day, he
could hardly discern at the opposite end of the hall, where a little
more light was admitted from one of the teatina windows, two figures
seated at a table covered with ledgers and papers. As if dreaming, he
followed his barefooted guide across the soft India matting, and heard
his Spanish announcement, that, might it please her Grace, here was a
Senor from England.

Both rose; the one a well-dressed man, the other--it was the well-known
action--'Mary!' it was all that he had the power to say; he was hardly
visible, but what tone was ever like that low, distinct, earnest voice?

Mary clasped her hands together as if in bewilderment.

'Xavier should not--I will speak,' whispered her companion to her, and
beginning, 'Address yourself to me, sir!'

But Mary sprang forward, signing him back with her hand. 'It is my
cousin, Lord Fitzjocelyn!' she said, as if breath and effort would
serve no more, and she laid her hand in that of Louis.

'Mr. Ward?' said Louis, barely able to frame the question, yet striving
for a manner that might leave no thorns behind.

'No; oh, no! Mr. Robson.'

The very sound of the 'No' made his heart bound up again, and his hand
closed fast on that which lay within it, while a bow passed between him
and Robson.

'And you are come?' as if it were too incredible.

'I told you I should,' he answered.

'I will leave you, Miss Ponsonby,' said Robson; 'we will continue our
little business when you are less agreeably engaged.'

He began to gather the papers together, an action which suddenly
recalled Louis to the recollection of Tom's cautions as to prudence and
alertness, and he forced himself to a prompt tone of business.

'I hope to be able to be of use,' he said, turning to Mary. 'Mr.
Dynevor has given me a commission to look into his affairs,' and he put
into Robson's hands the letter written by James, and signed by Oliver.

'Thank you, Lord Fitzjocelyn, I shall be very happy to give any
explanations you may wish,' said Robson, measuring with his eye his
youthful figure and features, and piling up the books.

'I should prefer having these left with me,' said Louis; 'I have but
little time before me, and if I could look them over to-night, I should
be prepared for you to-morrow.'

'Allow me. You would find it impossible to understand th