"And yet, by L'Isle's
own account, you played your part well."
"His account!" exclaimed Lady Mabel. "To whom?"
"To us all--Sir Rowland, Bradshawe, Conway, and myself. He was
disposed to be sulky and silent, at first; but, with Sir Rowland's
help, we drew it all out of him."
"Drew it all out of him!" said Lady Mabel, in a faltering tone. She
gasped for breath, and her cheek grew pale. But the next moment the
blood rushed into her face, and she exclaimed: "What! Did Colonel
L'Isle give you a full account of the party--of all that occurred that
evening?"
"Full and minute. He was very reluctant to tell, as we were all
laughing at him; but Sir Rowland is a good inquisitor, and made him
speak out, and at length. I did not know he had so good a memory, or
you so much wit."
"For Heaven's sake, papa, what did he tell you?" Lady Mabel sat
watching her father with eager eyes, her hands firmly clasped, and her
heel impatiently tapping the floor, while she strove to master her
almost uncontrollable confusion and anxiety.
"Why, he handed me your note," said Lord Strathern. "Perhaps he meant
it for my eye alone; but it was such capital bait for the trap, that I
read it aloud.
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