Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. "I am, Charcoal. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service. ’ *** Gerald Alderley stepped out of a house he had been visiting in Hamilton Place and the door closed behind him. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. .
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