Inchbare's attention to herself. The appearance of the lights disclosed
her, wet through with her arms round Anne's neck. Mrs. Inchbare
digressed at once to the pressing question of changing the young lady's
clothes, and gave Anne the opportunity of looking round her, unobserved.
Arnold had made his escape before the candles had been brought in.

In the mean time Blanche's attention was absorbed in her own dripping
skirts.

"Good gracious! I'm absolutely distilling rain from every part of me.
And I'm making you, Anne, as wet as I am! Lend me some dry things. You
can't? Mrs. Inchbare, what does your experience suggest? Which had I
better do? Go to bed while my clothes are being dried? or borrow from
your wardrobe--though you _are_ a head and shoulders taller than I am?"

Mrs. Inchbare instantly bustled out to fetch the choicest garments
that her wardrobe could produce. The moment the door had closed on her
Blanche looked round the room in her turn.

The rights of affection having been already asserted, the claims of
curiosity naturally pressed for satisfaction next.

"Somebody passed me in the dark," she whispered. "Was it your husband?
I'm dying to be introduced to him. And, oh my dear! what _is_ your
married name?"

Anne answered, coldly, "Wait a little. I can't speak about it yet."

"Are you ill?" asked Blanche.