"What a shrewd girl that must be!" said the Colonel.
"I beg your pardon, Colonel," said the man, not seeing the relevancy of
this observation.
"Oh, nothing," said the Colonel, "only _I_ expect a visit to-morrow at
twelve o'clock from a doubtful clergyman; just hang about the lawn on the
chance of my giving you a signal."
Thus while Monckton was mounting his batteries, his victims were
preparing defenses in a sort of general way, though they did not see
their way so clear as the enemy did.
Colonel Clifford's drawing-room was a magnificent room, fifty feet long
and thirty feet wide. A number of French windows opened on to a noble
balcony, with three short flights of stone steps leading down to the
lawn. The central steps were broad, the side steps narrow. There were
four entrances to it: two by double doors, and two by heavily curtained
apertures leading to little subsidiary rooms.
At twelve o'clock next day, what with the burst of color from the
potted flowers on the balcony, the white tents, and the flags and
streamers, and a clear sunshiny day gilding it all, the room looked a
"palace of pleasure," and no stranger peeping in could have dreamed
that it was the abode of care, and about to be visited by gloomy
Penitence and incurable Fraud.
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