La Masque stood for a moment looking after her, and then placed a key in the lock of the door. But there is many a slip--she was not fated to enter as soon as she thought; for just at that moment a new step sounded beside her, a new voice pronounced her name, and looking around, she beheld Ormiston. With what feelings that young person had listened to the neat and appropriate dialogue I have just had the pleasure of immortalizing, may be--to use a phrase you may have heard before, once or twice--better imagined than described. He knew very well who Leoline was, and how she had been saved from the plague-pit; but where in the world had La Masque found it out. Lost in a maze of wonder, and inclined to doubt the evidence of his own ears, he had stood perfectly still, until his ladylove had so coolly dismissed her company, and then rousing himself just in time, he had come forward and accosted her. La Masque turned round, regarded him in silence for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice had an accent of mingled surprise and displeasure. “You, Mr. Ormiston! How many more times am I to have the pleasure of seeing you again to-night?” “Pardon, madame; it is the last time. But you must hear me now.” “Must I? Very well, then; if I must, you had better begin at once, for the night-air is said to be unhealthy, and as good people are scarce, I want to take care of myself.” “In that case, perhaps you had better let me enter, too. I hate to talk on the street, for every wall has ears.” “I am aware of that. When I was talking to my old friend, Prudence, two minutes ago, I saw a tall shape that I have reason to know, since it haunts me, like my own shadow, standing there and paying deed attention. I hope you found our conversation interesting, Mr. Ormiston!” “Madame!” began Ormiston, turning crimson. “Oh, don't blush; there is quite light enough from yonder lamp to show that. Besides,” added the lady, easily, “I don't know as I had any objection; you are interested in Leoline, and must feel curious to know something about her.” “Madame, what must you think of me? I have acted unpardonably.” “Oh, I know all that. There is no need to apologize, and I don't think any the worse of you for it. Will you come to business, Mr. Ormiston? I think I told you I wanted to go in. What may you want of me at this dismal hour?” “O madame, need you ask! Does not your own heart tell you?” “I am not aware that it does! And to tell you the truth, Mr. Ormiston, I don't know that I even have a heart! I am afraid I must trouble you to put it in words.” “Then, madame, I love you!” “Is that all? If my memory serves me, you have told me that little fact several times before. Is there anything else tormenting you, or may I go in?” Ormiston groaned out an oath between his teeth, and La Masque raised one jeweled, snowy taper finger, reprovingly. “Don't Mr. Ormiston--it's naughty, you know! May I go in?”