I passed by Lady Roseville's door. Though the hour was late, and I had,
therefore, but a slight chance of finding her at home, yet I thought the
chance worth the trouble of inquiry. To my agreeable surprise, I was
admitted: no one was in the drawing-room. The servant said, Lady
Roseville was at that moment engaged, but would very shortly see me, and
begged I would wait.

Agitated as I was by various reflections, I walked (in the restlessness
of my mood) to and fro the spacious rooms which formed Lady Roseville's
apartments of reception. At the far end was a small boudoir, where none
but the goddess's favoured few were admitted. As I approached towards it,
I heard voices, and the next moment recognised the deep tones of
Glanville. I turned hastily away, lest I should overhear the discourse;
but I had scarcely got three steps, when the convulsed sound of a woman's
sob came upon my ear. Shortly afterwards, steps descended the stairs, and
the street door opened.

The minutes rolled on, and I became impatient. The servant re-entered--
Lady Roseville was so suddenly and seriously indisposed, that she was
unable to see me. I left the house, and, full of bewildered conjectures,
returned to my apartments.

The next day was one of the most important in my life. I was standing
wistfully by my fireplace, listening to a broken-winded hurdy-gurdy, with
the most mournful attention, stationed opposite to my window, when Bedos
announced Sir Reginald Glanville. It so happened, that I had that morning
taken the miniature I had found in the fatal field, from the secret place
in which I usually kept it, in order more closely to examine it, lest any
more convincing proof of its owner, than the initials and Thornton's
interpretation, might be discovered by a minuter investigation.