two combined, by the force of her character, which was nevertheless
inadequate to her release. To feel convinced of this, was not to feel
less disposed to love her than he had always been. In a word, he was
desperately in love with her, and thoroughly determined to pursue the
opportunity which had opened at last.

For the present, he merely touched upon the pleasure that Wilding and Co.
would soon have in entreating Miss Obenreizer to honour their
establishment with her presence--a curious old place, though a bachelor
house withal--and so did not protract his visit beyond such a visit's
ordinary length. Going down-stairs, conducted by his host, he found the
Obenreizer counting-house at the back of the entrance-hall, and several
shabby men in outlandish garments hanging about, whom Obenreizer put
aside that he might pass, with a few words in _patois_.

"Countrymen," he explained, as he attended Vendale to the door. "Poor
compatriots. Grateful and attached, like dogs! Good-bye. To meet
again. So glad!"

Two more light touches on his elbows dismissed him into the street.

Sweet Marguerite at her frame, and Madame Dor's broad back at her
telegraph, floated before him to Cripple Corner. On his arrival there,
Wilding was closeted with Bintrey. The cellar doors happening to be
open, Vendale lighted a candle in a cleft stick, and went down for a
cellarous stroll. Graceful Marguerite floated before him faithfully, but
Madame Dor's broad back remained outside.

The vaults were very spacious, and very old. There had been a stone
crypt down there, when bygones were not bygones; some said, part of a