“It might be,” said Lady Catharine, musingly, “that he would some day find means to send us word.”

“Who?  Sir Arthur?”

“No.  The young man, Mr. Law of Lauriston.”

“Yes; or he might come himself,” replied Mary Connynge.

“Fie!  He dare not!”

“Oh, but be not too sure.  Now suppose he did come—­’twill do no harm for us to suppose so much as that.  Suppose he stood there at your very door, Lady Kitty.  Then what would you do?”

“Do!  Why, tell James that we were not in, and never should be, and request the young man to leave at once.”

“And never let him pass the door again.”

“Certainly not!  ’Twould be presumption.  But then”—­this with a gentle sigh—­“we need not trouble ourselves with this.  I doubt not he hath forgot us long ago, just as indeed we have forgotten him—­though I would say—.  But I half believe he hit thee, girl, with his boldness and his bow, and his fearlessness withal.”

“Who, I?  Why, heavens!  Lady Kitty!  The idea never came to my mind.  Indeed no, not for an instant.  Of course, as you say, ’twas but a passing occurrence, and ’twas all forgot.  But, by the way, Lady Kitty, go we to Sadler’s Wells to-morrow morn?”

“I see no reason for not going,” replied Lady Catharine.  “And we may drive about, the same way we took the other morn.  I will show you the same spot where he stood and bowed so handsomely, and made so little of the fight with the robbers the night before, as though ’twere trifling enough; and made so little of his poverty, as though he were owner of the king’s coin.”

“But we shall never see him more,” said Mary Connynge.

“To be sure not.  But just to show you—­see!  He stood thus, his hat off, his eye laughing, I pledge you, as though for some good jest he had.  And ’twas ‘your pardon, ladies!’ he said, as though he were indeed nobleman himself.  See!  ’Twas thus.”

What pantomime might have followed did not appear, for at that moment the butler appeared at the door with an admonitory cough.  “If you please, your Ladyship,” said he, “there are two persons waiting.  They—­that is to say, he—­one of them, asks for admission to your Ladyship.”

“What name does he offer, James?”

“Mr. John Law of Lauriston, your Ladyship, is the name he sends.  He says, if your Ladyship please, that he has brought with him something which your Ladyship left behind, if your Ladyship please.”

Lady Catharine and Mary Connynge had both arisen and drawn together, and they now turned each a swift half glance upon the other.

“Are these gentlemen waiting without the street door?” asked Lady Catharine.

“No, your Ladyship.  That is to say, before I thought, I allowed the tall one to come within.”

“Oh, well then, you see, Mary Connynge,” replied Lady Catharine, with the pink flush rising in her cheek, “it were rude to turn them now from our door, since they have already been admitted.”