The housemaid was accordingly sent for; and holding fast either corner of her apron, presented herself before the company in the breakfast-room. Mrs. Falkland then asked her one or two questions of no particular moment, and Colonel Manners next demanded, somewhat to the girl's surprise, "The mornings are becoming frosty now, are they not, my good girl?" "Oh, that they are, sir," answered she. "It was all as white this morning as if it had snowed last night." "And did you see any marks of feet upon the steps?" demanded Manners. "No, sir, none," replied the girl. "Are you sure?" repeated Colonel Manners. "Oh, quite sure, sir," she replied; "for I washed and whitened the steps with my own two hands, and cold work it was; and I must have seen steps if there had been any." After this answer she was dismissed, courtesying low, and not ungracefully. "I dare say he will soon come back," said Colonel Manners, when the woman was gone; "and, at all events, if he be with the person who gave me the letter, he is in no danger, I am sure." Both Mrs. Falkland and her daughter perceived that Manners, at least, if not Marian, spoke with a slight touch of mystery concerning the letter and its sender, but, of course, they asked no questions; and Colonel Manners's assurance that his friend was in no danger served in some degree to tranquilize Marian. The breakfast, as may be supposed, passed over dully enough, for every one was more anxious than they chose to show, and their anxiety was, of course, increased by every minute as it flew. Each passing step that made itself heard in the breakfast-room, the sound of every opening door, caused Marian's heart to beat, and Isadore to look round, but still the person for whose return they were so anxious did not appear; and however slowly the minutes flew, so many of them passed away at length as to justify serious alarm.