"Now," he said, taking the glass from her, "tell me all about it--how you came, and why? Speak in a whisper."
"You don't need to ask me why, Stephen," she said, leaning forward and laying her hand upon his arm, her dark eyes fixed on his half-hidden ones. "Why did you leave me so long without a word?"
"I will tell you directly," he answered. "Tell me how you came--alone! Great Heaven!"
"Alone, yes; why not? I was not afraid. I came by the train."
"But--but----" he said, with a little flush and a shifting glance, "how did you know where I was?"
"You would never guess! You do not deserve that I should tell you. Well, I followed Slummers!"
"Followed Slummers!" he echoed, with a forced smile.
"Yes, I met him in the street; you are going to ask me why I did not ask him where you were," she broke off with a smile and a shake of her head.
"Because I knew he would not tell me. Stephen, I do not like that man, and he does not like me. Why do you trust him so?"
"To the station. I was behind him when he took his ticket, and I took one for the same place. I was quite close behind him, but he did not see me. I got into the train at the last moment, and I followed him from the station here."
"My dear Laura," he murmured, soothingly; "how rash, how thoughtless!"
"Was it?" she said. "Perhaps it was. I did not stop to think."
"Don't be angry with me, Stephen, now I _am_ here. You must tell me what I am to do." Then her eyes wandered round the house. "What a large house! Is it yours, Stephen?"
"Eh?" he said, starting slightly. "I--I--don't know--I mean it was my uncle's. I was going to write to-night and tell you where I was, and why I did not write before."
"Why didn't you?" she said, with gentle reproach.
"Because," he replied, "I could not--it was impossible. I could not leave the house, and could not trust the letter to a servant. My uncle has been very ill: he--he--lies dead up-stairs."
"You see," he exclaimed reproachfully, "that I have a good excuse, that I have not desert--left you without a word for no cause."
"Forgive me, Stephen, dear!" she murmured, penitently. "Do not be angry with me. Say you are glad to see me now I have come."
"Of course I am glad to see you, but I am not glad you have come, my dear Laura. What am I to do with you? I am not alone here, you know. The house is full of servants; any moment someone may come in. Think of the awkward position in which your precipitancy has placed me--has placed both of us!"