"Is it the first time this has occurred?" he asked, stopping again; "the truth, Rose, I can forgive anything but a lie."

"Yes, papa."

"You never have been there before?"

"No, never!"

Again he resumed his walk, and again he stopped before her.

"Why did you go last night?"

"I couldn't sleep, papa. I felt worried about something, and I was sitting by the window. I heard Mr. Richards' door open, and some one come out and rap at Kate's room. Kate opened it, and I heard them talking."

Her father interrupted her.

"Did you hear what they said?" he asked sharply.

"No papa--only the sound of their voices. It was not your voice, nor Ogden's; so I concluded it must be Mr. Richards' himself. I heard him go down stairs, and then I peeped out. His door was open, and I--I--"

"Went in!"

"Yes, papa," very humbly.

"Did you see Mr. Richards?"

"I saw some one, tall and slight, come up stairs and go in, but I did not see his face."

"And that is all!"

"Yes, papa."

Once more he began pacing backward and forward, his face very grave, but not so stern. Rose watched him askance, nervous and uncomfortable.

"My daughter," he said at last, "you have done very wrong, and grieved me more than I can say. This is a serious matter--more serious by far than you imagine. You have discovered, probably, that other reasons than illness confine Mr. Richards to his rooms."

"Yes, papa."

"Mr. Richards is not an invalid--at least not now--although he was ill when he came here. But the reasons that keep him a prisoner in this house are so very grave that I dare not confide them to you. This much I will say--his life depends upon it."

"Papa!" Rose cried, startled.

"His life depends upon it," repeated Captain Danton. "Only three in this house know his secret--myself, Ogden, and your sister Kate. Ogden and Kate I can trust implicitly; can I place equal confidence in you?"

"Yes, papa," very faintly.

"Mr. Richards," pursued Captain Danton, with a slight tremor of voice, "is the nearest and dearest friend I have on this earth. It would break my heart, Rose, if an ill befell him. Do you see now why I am so anxious to preserve his secret; why I felt so deeply your rash act of last night?"

"Forgive me, papa!" sobbed Rose. "I am sorry; I didn't know. Oh, please, papa!"

He stooped and kissed her.

"My thoughtless little girl! Heaven knows how freely I forgive you--only promise me your word of honour not to breathe a word of this."

"I promise, papa."

"Thank you, my dear. And now you may go; I have some writing to do. Go and take a ride to cheer you up after all this dismal talk, and get back your roses before luncheon time."

He kissed her again and held the door open for her to pa.s.s out. Rose, with a great weight off her mind went down the pa.s.sage, and met Eeny running upstairs.

"I say, Rose," exclaimed her sister, "don't you want to go to a ball?

Well, there are invitations for the Misses Danton in the parlour."

"A ball, Eeny? Where?"

"At the Ponsonbys', next Thursday night. Sir Ronald, Doctor Frank, papa, and Mr. Stanford are all invited."

Rose's delight at the news banished all memory of the unpleasant scene just over. A ball was the summit of Rose's earthly bliss, and a ball at the Ponsonbys' really meant something. In ten minutes her every thought was absorbed in the great question, "What shall I wear?"

"To-day is Wednesday," thought Rose. "Thursday one, Friday two, Sat.u.r.day three, Monday four, Tuesday five, Wednesday six, Thursday seven. Plenty of time to have my new silk made. I'll go and speak to Agnes at once."

She tripped away to the sewing-room in search of the little seamstress.

The door was ajar; she pushed it open, but paused in astonishment at the sight which met her eyes.

The sewing-room was on the ground floor, its one window about five feet from the ground. At this window which was open, sat the seamstress, her work lying idly on her lap, twisting her fingers in a restless, nervous sort of way peculiar to her. Leaning against the window from without, his arm on the sill, stood Doctor Danton, talking as if he had known Agnes Darling all his life.

The noise of Rose's entrance, slight as it was, caught his quick ear. He looked up and met her surprised eyes, coolly composedly.

"Don't let me intrude!" said Rose, entering, when she found herself discovered. "I did not expect to see Doctor Danton here."

"Very likely," replied the imperturbable Doctor; "it is an old habit of mine turning up in unexpected places. Besides, what was I to do? Grace in the kitchen was invisible, Miss Kate had gone riding with Mr.

Stanford, Miss Rose was closeted mysteriously with papa. Miss Eeny, practising the 'Battle of Prague,' was not to be disturbed. In my distraction I came here, where Miss Darling has kindly permitted me to remain and study the art of dressmaking."

He made his speech purposely long, that Rose might not see Miss Darling's confused face. But Rose saw it, and believed as much of the gentleman's story as she chose.

"And now that you have discovered it," said Rose, "I dare say we will have you flying on all occasions to this refugium peccatorum. Are you going? Don't let me frighten you away."

"You don't; but I want to smoke a cigar under the tamaracks. You haven't such a thing as a match about you, have you? No matter; I've got one myself."

He strolled away. Rose looked suspiciously at the still confused face of the sewing-girl.

"How do you come to know Doctor Danton?" she asked abruptly.

"I--he--I mean the window was open and he was pa.s.sing, and he stopped to speak," stammered Agnes, more confusedly still.

"I dare say," said Rose; "but he would not have stopped unless he had known you before, would he?"

"I--saw him once by accident before--I don't know him--"