The Midnight Queen - Page 64/177

"I owe my life to Sir Norman Kingsley," murmured the faint, sweet voice

of the lady, "and could not rest until I had thanked him. I have no

words to say how deeply thankful and grateful I am."

"Fairest Leoline! one word from such lips would be enough to repay me,

had I done a thousandfold more," responded Norman, laying his hand on

his heart, with another deep genuflection.

"Very pretty indeed!" remarked Ormiston to himself, with a little

approving nod; "but I'm afraid they won't be able to keep it up, and go

on talking on stilts like that, till they have finished. Perhaps they

may get on all the better if I take myself off, there being always one

too many in a case like this." Then aloud: "Madame, I regret that I am

obliged to depart, having a most particular appointment; but, doubtless,

my friend will be able to express himself without my assistance. I have

the honor to wish you both good-night."

With which neat and appropriate speech, Ormiston bowed himself out, and

was gone before Leoline could detain him, even if she wished to do so.

Probably, however, she thought the care of one gentleman sufficient

responsibility at once; and she did not look very seriously distressed

by his departure; and, the moment he disappeared, Sir Norman brightened

up wonderfully.

It is very discomposing to the feelings to make love in the presence of

a third party; and Sir Norman had no intention of wasting his time on

anything, and went at it immediately. Taking her hand, with a grace

that would have beaten Sir Charles Grandison or Lord Chesterfield all

to nothing, he led her to a couch, and took a seat as near her as was

at all polite or proper, considering the brief nature of their

acquaintance. The curtains were drawn; the lamp shed a faint light; the

house was still, and there was no intrusive papa to pounce down upon

them; the lady was looking down, and seemed in no way haughty

or discouraging, and Sir Norman's spirits went up with a jump to

boiling-point.

Yet the lady, with all her pretty bashfulness, was the first to speak.

"I'm afraid, Sir Norman, you must think this a singular hour to come

here; but, in these dreadful times, we cannot tell if we may live from

one moment to another; and I should not like to die, or have you die,

without my telling, and you hearing, all my gratitude. For I do

assure you, Sir Norman," said the lady, lifting her dark eyes with the

prettiest and moat bewitching earnestness, "that I am grateful, though I

cannot find words to express it."

"Madame, I would not listen to you it you would; for I have done nothing

to deserve thanks. I wish I could tell you what I felt when Ormiston

told me you were alive and safe."