Her
face wore that expression so much resembling guilt, which indicates
the misery the most innocent feel the most under the consciousness
of suspicion. At the sight of lord Charles, she crimsoned: it was
one thing to confess to the marquis, and quite another to do so in
the presence of his son.
The marquis sat with one leg on a stool, already in the gradually
contracting gripe of his ghoulish enemy. Before Dorothy could
recover from the annoyance of finding lord Charles present, or open
her mouth to beg for a more private interview, he addressed her
abruptly.
'Our young rebel friend hath escaped, it seems, mistress Dorothy!'
he said, gently but coldly, looking her full in the eyes, with
searching gaze and hard expression.
'I am glad to hear it, my lord,' returned Dorothy, with a sudden
influx of courage, coming, as the wind blows, she knew not whence.
'Ha!' said the marquis, quickly; 'then is it news to thee, mistress
Dorothy?'
His lip, as it seemed to Dorothy, curled into a mocking smile; but
the gout might have been in it.
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