had before him in a low mirror. He saw her move in her chair, and slowly look him all over, and then glance down as if considering her answer.
"He is on the Continent—at Nice, I think."
She had dined with him that day, but did not know that from the dinner Oswald Carey had come straight to Mr. Bugbee's house to keep an appointment with the wily "King's Banker," who wished to know how the Beauty had spent the day, and whom she had seen.
"What a liar she is!" muttered old Bugbee, but he smiled at himself in the mirror, as if approving his superior astuteness.
"Then there is no danger of his making a noise about your absence from home to-night. Some husbands would be alarmed, and might apply to the police."
Mrs. Carey looked up to see if Bugbee were serious; and then she laughed heartily and rather loudly, while he held up his hands with an alarmed expression.
"Hush!" and the frown of the old man was something to remember. "They observe as much formality as if he were in Windsor Palace."
"Well—he will be there to-day, will he not?" and Mrs. Carey looked innocently at the banker.
He came closer and bent his broad, bare poll to her as he spoke:
"No! He will never see Windsor again."
"But the Royalists—will they not raise the King's flag to-day?" Still the guileless surprise in her face, which had its effect on old Bugbee.
"Yes; they will strike to-day at Aldershot—and they will be defeated."
"How do you know? Have they not plenty of men?"
