here. We came along to try to get Miss White to go with us. Will you
join our little party?"

"Oh, yes, certainly--thank you very much," Macleod said, eagerly.

"Then you'd better meet us at Charing Cross, at ten sharp," Colonel Ross
said; "so don't let Ogilvie keep you up too late with brandy and soda. A
special will take us down."

"Brandy and soda!" Mr. Ogilvie exclaimed. "I am going to take him along
for a few minutes to Lady Beauregard's--surely that is proper enough;
and I have to get down by the 'cold-meat' train to Aldershot, so there
won't be much brandy and soda for me. Shall we go now, Mrs. Ross?"

"I am waiting for an answer," Mrs. Ross said, looking along the
corridor.

Was it possible, then, that she herself should bring the answer to this
message that had been sent her--stepping out of the dream-world in which
she had disappeared with her lover? And how would she look as she came
along this narrow passage? Like the arch coquette of this land of
gaslight and glowing colors? or like the pale, serious, proud girl who
was fond of sketching the elm at Prince's Gate? A strange nervousness
possessed him as he thought she might suddenly appear. He did not listen
to the talk between Colonel Ross and Mr. Ogilvie. He did not notice that
this small party was obviously regarded as being in the way by the
attendants who were putting out the lights and shutting the doors of the
boxes. Then a man came along.

"Miss White's compliments, ma'am, and she will be very pleased to meet