"No, she don't know it, poor mad thing! at least, I don't think so. She
kept to the name, too, right enough, and wouldn't answer to the name of
Pellet."
"Of course not," exclaimed Richard, fiercely; and then the two stood
gazing in each other's eyes for a minute before the woman spoke, saying,
maliciously--
"Perhaps she may find her way here though, after all; these mad folks
are very cunning when they are after anything."
"Here! go now," exclaimed Richard, hurriedly thrusting some money into
the woman's hands. "You must not give her up, Mrs Walls. We'll make a
fresh settlement, and--and we'll talk it over to-morrow when I come."
The woman smiled as she made her way out of the library, and Richard
Pellet stood for a few moments wiping the cold dew from his forehead,
before rejoining his guests.
The city gentlemen heard no more that night respecting limited liability
companies, when, after giving the strictest orders that, if anybody else
should come, _she_ was to be shown into the library, Richard Pellet
returned to the assembled company, and took coffee, unaware that the two
gentlemen in coach-lace had thrust their tongues into their cheeks at
one another, after a fashion meant to express the extreme of derision;
and then, as soon as they were at liberty, went and related the affair
in large text, with redundant flourishes, in the servants' hall.
"If she had chosen any other day it would not so much have mattered,"
said Richard Pellet to himself, as he probed a lump of sugar at the
bottom of his half-cold coffee: "but to have come to-day!"
It was no wonder that, until the last guest departed, Richard Pellet's
eyes were turned anxiously towards the door every time it opened, when,
Nemesis-like, he expected to see enter the tall, pale figure he had
looked upon that day in Borton Street, his heart too much crusted with
gold to allow of a single tender thought for the afflicted woman, who
was sure enough to clasp her hands and ask that she might be with her
child.
Volume 1, Chapter XXI.