Ernest sank upon the first chair, and buried his face in his hands.

Cleveland's valet entered, and bustled about and unpacked the portmanteau, and arranged the evening dress.

But Ernest did not look up nor speak; the first bell sounded; the second tolled unheard upon his ear.

He was thoroughly overcome by his emotions.

The first notes of Cleveland's kind voice had touched upon a soft chord, that months of anxiety and excitement had strained to anguish, but had never woke to tears.