Suddenly there was an unusual sound, a strange voice in the hall; the dogs leapt to their feet, and tore out of the room, one yelping, skelping whirlwind. If Belle had been a man, she would have used strong language as she capsized “Mossoo,” laid down her book, and strained her ears to catch a sound above that maddening din. Yes! a man’s voice, and then her mother’s. “Oh, you must come in, you really must! and have a glass of our celebrated rhubarb wine” (celebrated indeed!) Belle jumped up. She was in a shabby, old, red tea-gown; her hair resembled a bottle brush. With great presence of mind she blew out the candle, pushed one or two chairs into their places, flung herself into a luxuriant seat, rather out of the fire-light, and feigned sleep. “If mother orders the lamp,” she said to herself, “I am lost.” But luckily her astute old mother grasped the situation, and when, ten minutes later, George Holroyd took leave, he carried away with him the memories of a dim room, a pair of magnificent dark eyes, a ditto of restless, small, white hands, and a bewitching smile. It is not certain, that he had not left a minute portion of his heart behind him. At any rate he had promised to return the following day, and bring his music, all his songs, and more especially his _duets_. His late arrival at home was the subject of much graceful badinage on the part of his brother and sister. “Did you see Belle, and was she dressed?” enquired the latter, capering round him. “Of course she was dressed, you little savage.” “I am surprised to hear it. How I wish you had caught her in her old red dressing-gown.” “Was the chair heavy?” enquired Denis. “Weighs a ton; the old lady should really charter a pony or a donkey.” “She had a fine donkey to-day and that was yourself,” returned Denis with a grin. “Fancy tooling old Mother Redmond home! Upon my word, I did not think you were so soft. Eh! what?” CHAPTER VI. DANGEROUS. “‘Will you walk into my parlour?’ Said the spider to the fly.”