Mr Durant paused to contemplate with pleasure the panic he had caused. He put down his hat and rubbed together his little fat white hands. “By the blessing of Providence,” he said, drawing a long breath, “that danger has been averted. I say it with thankfulness. We have been preserved from any such terrible result. But had things been differently ordered--think, only think! and be grateful to Providence.” The answer which Waring made to this speech was to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. He seemed incapable of recovering his gravity. As soon as he paused, exhausted, to draw breath, he was off again. The suggestion, when it ceased to be horrible, became ludicrous beyond description. He quavered forth “I beg your pardon” between the fits, which Mr Durant did not at all like. He sat looking on at the hilarity very gravely without a smile. “I did not expect so much levity,” he said. “I beg your pardon,” cried the culprit, with tears running down his cheeks. “Forgive me. If you will recollect that the character of a gay Lothario is the last one in the world----” “It is not necessary to be a gay Lothario,” returned the clergyman. “Really, if this is to continue, it will be better that I should withdraw. Laughter was the last thing I intended to produce.” “It is not a bad thing, and it is not an indulgence I am given to. But I think, considering what a very terrible alternative you set before me, we may be very glad it has ended in laughter. Mr Durant,” continued Waring, “you have only anticipated an explanation I intended to make. Mannering is an ass.” “I am sure he is a most respectable member of society,” said Mr Durant, with much gravity. “So are many asses. I have some one else to present to you, who is very unlike Mannering, but who betrays me still more distinctly. Constance, I want you here.” The old clergyman gazed, not believing his eyes, as there suddenly appeared in the doorway the tall figure of a girl who had never been seen as yet in Bordighera--a girl who was very simply dressed, yet who had an air which the old gentleman, acquainted, as he flattered himself, with the air of fine people, could not ignore. She stood with a careless grace, returning slightly, not without a little of that impertinence of a fine lady which is so impressive to the crowd, his salutation. “Did you want me, papa?” she quietly asked. CHAPTER X.