Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. Noiselessly, his booted feet stepping with careful restraint, he started forward, signalling to Roding to follow. For two years he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watchfulness over Aliva. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. The Closing Scene.
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