We took off our hats, and bowed. Her face had already formed a smile of thanks, when we raised our heads into the light from a candle the house servant carried. Madge gave a little startled cry of joy, and looked from one to the other of us to make sure she was not under a delusion: then fondly murmuring Phil's name and mine in what faint voice was left her, she made first as if she would fall into his arms; but recollecting with a look of pain how matters stood between them, she drew back, steadied herself against the door-post, and dropped her eyes from his. "We should like to talk with you a little, my dear," said Phil gently. "May we come in?" There was a gleam of new-lighted hope in her eyes as she looked up and answered tremulously: "'Twill be a happiness--more than I dared expect." We followed the servant with the candle up-stairs to a small drawing-room, in which a table was set with bread, cheese, cold beef, and a bottle of claret. "'Tis my supper," said Madge. "If I had known I should have such guests--you will do me the honour, will you not?" Her manner was so tentative and humble, so much that of one who scarce feels a right even to plead, so different from that of the old petted and radiant Madge, that 'twould have taken a harder man than Philip to decline. And so, when the servant had placed additional chairs, down we sat to supper with Miss Warren, of Drury Lane Theatre, who had sent her maid to answer the inquiries of the alarmed house concerning the recent tumult in the street. CHAPTER XX. _We Intrude upon a Gentleman at a Coffee-house._ Little was eaten at that supper, to which we sat down in a constraint natural to the situation. Philip was presently about to assume the burden of opening the conversation, when Madge abruptly began: "I make no doubt you recognised him, Bert--the man with the coach." "Yes. Philip and I saw him outside the theatre." "And followed him, in following you," added Philip. "We had intended--"