’This person, who gave the name of Maude Cibras, subsequently called at the Hall three times in succession, and was each time refused admittance.  It was now, however, thought advisable to inform Randolph of her visits.  He said she might be permitted to see him, if she returned.  This she did on the next day, and had a long interview in private with him.  Her voice was heard raised as if in angry protest by one Hester Dyett, a servant of the house, while Randolph in low tones seemed to try to soothe her.  The conversation was in French, and no word could be made out.  She passed out at length, tossing her head jauntily, and smiling a vulgar triumph at the footman who had before opposed her ingress.  She was never known to seek admission to the house again.

’But her connection with its inmates did not cease.  The same Hester asserts that one night, coming home late through the park, she saw two persons conversing on a bench beneath the trees, crept behind some bushes, and discovered that they were the strange woman and Randolph.  The same servant bears evidence to tracking them to other meeting-places, and to finding in the letter-bag letters addressed to Maude Cibras in Randolph’s hand-writing.  One of these was actually unearthed later on.  Indeed, so engrossing did the intercourse become, that it seems even to have interfered with the outburst of radical zeal in the new political convert.  The rendezvous—­always held under cover of darkness, but naked and open to the eye of the watchful Hester—­sometimes clashed with the science lectures, when these latter would be put off, so that they became gradually fewer, and then almost ceased.’

‘Your narrative becomes unexpectedly interesting,’ said Zaleski; ’but this unearthed letter of Randolph’s—­what was in it?’

I read as follows: 

’"Dear Mdlle.  Cibras,—­I am exerting my utmost influence for you with my father.  But he shows no signs of coming round as yet.  If I could only induce him to see you!  But he is, as you know, a person of unrelenting will, and meanwhile you must confide in my loyal efforts on your behalf.  At the same time, I admit that the situation is a precarious one:  you are, I am sure, well provided for in the present will of Lord Pharanx, but he is on the point—­within, say, three or four days—­of making another; and exasperated as he is at your appearance in England, I know there is no chance of your receiving a centime under the new will.  Before then, however, we must hope that something favourable to you may happen; and in the meantime, let me implore you not to let your only too just resentment pass beyond the bounds of reason.

“Sincerely yours,

“RANDOLPH."’

‘I like the letter!’ cried Zaleski.  ’You notice the tone of manly candour.  But the facts—­were they true? Did the earl make a new will in the time specified?’

‘No,—­but that may have been because his death intervened.’