from the inn-windows, she
knew that the night had come upon her, and she began to fear that she
had been imprudent in allowing herself to be out so late--imprudent,
even had she succeeded in being alone. She went direct to her own room,
that, woman-like, she might consult her own face as to the effects of
the insult she had received, and then having, as it were, steadied
herself, and prepared herself for the scene that was to follow, she
descended to the sitting-room and encountered her friend. The friend was
the first to speak; and the reader will kindly remember that the friend
had ample reason for knowing what companion Lady Ongar had been likely
to meet upon the downs.

"Julie, dear, how late you are," said Sophie, as though she were rather
irritated in having been kept so long waiting for her tea.

"I am late," said Lady Ongar.

"And don't you think you are imprudent--all alone, you know, dear; just
a leetle imprudent."

"Very imprudent, indeed. I have been thinking of that now as I crossed
the lawn, and found how dark it was. I have been very imprudent; but I
have escaped without much injury."

"Escaped! escaped what? Have you escaped a cold, or a drunken man?"

"Both, as I think." Then she sat down, and, having rung the bell, she
ordered tea.

"There seems to be something very odd with you," said Sophie. "I do not
quite understand you."

"When did you see your brother last?" Lady Ongar asked.

"My brother?"

"Yes, Count Pateroff. When did you see him last?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, it does not signify, as of course you will not tell me. But will
you say when you will see him next?"

"How can I tell?"

"Will it be to-night?"

"Julia, what do you mean?"

"Only this, that I wish you would make him understand that if he has
anything to do concerning me, he might as well do it out of hand. For
the last hour--"

"Then you have seen him?"

"Yes; is not that wonderful? I have seen him."

"And why could you not tell him yourself what you had to say? He and I
do not agree about certain things, and I do not like to carry messages
to him. And you have seen him here on this sacre sea-coast?"

"Exactly so; on this sacre sea-coast. Is it not odd that he should have
known that I was here--know the very inn we were at-and know, too,
whither I was going to-night?"

"He would learn that from the servants, my dear."

"No doubt. He has been good enough to amuse me with mysterious threats
as