‘She told me that you had broken her heart,’ said Venetia; ’and she prayed to God that her child might not be so miserable.’

‘Oh, my Venetia!’ exclaimed Herbert, pressing her to his breast, and in a voice stifled with emotion, ’I feel now we might have been happy!’

In the meantime the prolonged absence of her daughter surprised Lady Annabel.  At length she rose, and walked into their adjoining apartment, but to her surprise Venetia was not there.  Returning to her saloon, she found Pauncefort and the waiter arranging the table for dinner.

‘Where is Miss Herbert, Pauncefort?’ inquired Lady Annabel.

’I am sure, my lady, I cannot say.  I have no doubt she is in the other room.’

‘She is not there, for I have just quitted it,’ replied Lady Annabel.  ‘How very strange!  You have not seen the signora?’ inquired Lady Annabel of the waiter.

‘The signora is in the room with the gentleman.’

‘The gentleman!’ exclaimed Lady Annabel.  ’Tell me, good man, what do you mean?  I am inquiring for my daughter.’

‘I know well the signora is talking of her daughter,’ replied the waiter.

’But do you know my daughter by sight?  Surely you you must mean some one else.’

‘Do I know the signora’s daughter?’ said the waiter.  ’The beautiful young lady, with hair like Santa Marguerita, in the church of the Holy Trinity!  I tell the signora, I saw her carried into numero 4, in the arms of the Signor Forestiere, who arrived this morning.’

‘Venetia is ill,’ said Lady Annabel.  ‘Show me to the room, my friend.’

Lady Annabel accordingly, with a hurried step, following her guide, quitted the chamber.  Pauncefort remained fixed to the earth, the very picture of perplexity.

‘Well, to be sure!’ she exclaimed, ’was anything ever so strange!  In the arms of Signor Forestiere!  Forestiere.  An English name.  There is no person of the name of Forest that I know.  And in his arms, too!  I should not wonder if it was my lord after all.  Well, I should be glad if he were to come to light again, for, after all, my lady may say what she likes, but if Miss Venetia don’t marry Lord Cadurcis, I must say marriages were never made in heaven!’

CHAPTER V.

The waiter threw open the door of Mr. Herbert’s chamber, and Lady Annabel swept in with a majesty she generally assumed when about to meet strangers.  The first thing she beheld was her daughter in the arms of a man whose head was bent, and who was embracing her.  Notwithstanding this astounding spectacle, Lady Annabel neither started nor screamed; she only said in an audible tone, and one rather expressing astonishment than agitation, ‘Venetia!’

Immediately the stranger looked up, and Lady Annabel beheld her husband!

She was rooted to the earth.  She turned deadly pale; for a moment her countenance expressed only terror, but the terror quickly changed into aversion.  Suddenly she rushed forward, and exclaimed in a tone in which decision conquered dismay, ‘Restore me my child!’