“And so you felt no emotion whatever on hearing it?” “I don't know as I properly understand what you mean by emotion,” said Herbert, reflectively. “But ye-e-s, I did feel somewhat pleased--she is so like me, and so uncommonly handsome!” “Humph! there's a reason! Did she tell you how she discovered it herself?” “Let me see--no--I think not--she simply mentioned the fact.” “She did not tell you either, I suppose, that you had more sisters than herself?” “More than herself! No. That would be a little too much of a good thing! One sister is quite enough for any reasonable mortal.” “But there were two more, my good young friend!” “Is it possible?” said Hubert, in a tone that betrayed not the slightest symptom of emotion. “Who are they?” Sir Norman paused one instant, combating a strong temptation to seize the phlegmatic page by the collar, and give him such another shaking as he would not get over for a week to come; but suddenly recollecting he was Leoline's brother, and by the same token a marquis or thereabouts, he merely paused to cast a withering look upon him, and walked on. “Well,” said Hubert, “I am waiting to be told.” “You may wait, then!” said Sir Norman, with a smothered growl; “and I give you joy when I tell you. Such extra communicativeness to one so stolid could do no good!” “But I am not stolid! I am in a perfect agony of anxiety,” said Hubert. “You young jackanapes!” said Sir Norman, half-laughing, half-incensed. “It were a wise deed and a godly one to take you by the hind-leg and nape of the neck, and pitch you over yonder wall; but for your master's sake I will desist.” “Which of them?” inquired Hubert, with provoking gravity. “It would be more to the point if you asked me who the others were, I think.” “So I have, and you merely abused me for it. But I think I know one of them without being told. It is that other fac-simile of Leoline and myself who died in the robber's ruin!” “Exactly. You and she, and Leoline, were triplets!” “And who is the other?” “Her name is La Masque. Have you ever heard it?” “La Masque! Nonsense!” exclaimed Hubert, with some energy in his voice at last. “You but jest, Sir Norman Kingsley!” “No such thing! It is a positive fact! She told me the whole story herself!” “And what is the whole story; and why did she not tell it to me instead of you.” “She told it to Leoline, thinking, probably, she had the most sense; and she told it to me, as Leoline's future husband. It is somewhat long to relate, but it will help to beguile the time while we are waiting for the royal summons.” And hereupon Sir Norman, without farther preface, launched into a rapid resume of La Masque's story, feeling the cold chill with which he had witnessed it creep over him as he narrated her fearful end.