But, alas, for poor
Harold! He was soon discovered by Mrs. Tracy, who, asking him if he did
not know his place better than that, ordered him back to his post, where
he was told to stay until the party was over.
Wholly unconscious of the nature of his offence, but very sorry that he
had offended, Harold went up the stairs, wondering why he could not see
the dancing, and how long the party would last. His head was beginning
to ache with the glare and gas; his little legs were tired, and he was
growing sleepy. Surely he might sit down now, particularly as Mrs. St.
Claire had suggested it, and bringing himself a chair from one of the
rooms he sat down in a corner of the hall and was soon in a sound sleep,
from which, however, he was roused by the sound of Mr. Tracy's voice, as
he came up the stairs, followed by a tall, distinguished-looking man,
who wore a Spanish cloak wrapped gracefully around him, and a large,
broad-brimmed hat drawn down so closely, as to hide his features from
view.
As he reached the upper landing he raised his head, and Harold, who was
now wide awake and standing up, caught a glimpse of a thin, pale face
and a pair of keen, black eyes, which seemed for an instant to take
everything in; than the head was dropped, and the two men disappeared in
a room at the far end of the hall.
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