the tables of the ill-lit drawing-room, the two pairs of wax
candles in old-fashioned silver sticks seeming to emit but a feeble
light, and but for the warm glow of the fire, the great room would have
been sombre in the extreme.

"What time is it, Lydia? There, don't start like that. What a kitten
you are."

"You spoke so suddenly, dear. It is half-past ten."

"Only half-past ten. Nearly an hour and a half before the play begins.
I wish we had kept the tea things."

"Pray don't speak so lightly, Katrine."

"I can't help it. It is so absurd for the old man to have left
instructions for all this meretricious romance to surround his end. As
for old Girtle, he seems to delight in it, and goes about the house
rubbing his hands like an undertaker."

"Katrine!"

"Well, he does. Will read at half-past eleven at night on the tenth day
after the old man's death. It is absurd. Ah, well, I suppose a
millionaire has a right to be eccentric, if he likes."

"Dear Katrine, he was always so good."

"Good! Bah! What did he ever do for me? He hated my branch of the
family, and our Creole blood. As if the D'Enghiens were not a fine old
French family before the Capels were heard of."

"But Katrine--"

"I will speak. I was dragged here to be present at this mummery, to
have for my share a hundred pounds to buy mourning, and I vow I'll spend
it in Chinese mourning, and wear yellow instead of black. Why don't
those men come up instead of sitting smoking in that dining-room and
leaving us alone in this mausoleum of a place? Here, ring, and send for
them; I'm getting nervous, too. I'm catching it from you--weak little
baby that you are."

At that moment the door opened, and the two young men entered to go up
to them, both speaking to Lydia, and then drawing their chairs nearer to
Katrine.

"Are you nearly ready for the play, Mr Capel?" she said, after a time.

"The play!" he exclaimed.

"Yes; the curtain will rise directly. How do you feel, Gerard?"

"Oh, I don't know. I want to hear how many chips the old boy has left
me. Deuced glad to get out of this tomb. I say, would you mind me
lighting a cigar?"

"I don't mind," said Katrine, lightly.

"Would you mind, Miss Lawrence?"

"Mind--your smoking--here?" said Lydia hastily. "I--I don't think I
should, but--"

"No, no," said Capel; "it is impossible. For heaven's sake, pay a
little respect to the ladies, if you cannot to the dead."

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