Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions. "This must be prevented," he added to himself. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. "Souls," she answered, drily. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild. Nor Jacques.
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