The view over the Mediterranean, bathed in the bright softness of Italian moonlight, was so lovely that I remained for a long time at the window, looking out, and listening to the dance-music which faintly reached me from the ballroom.

My thoughts were far away with the relations I had left in England, when I was startled out of them by hearing my name softly pronounced.
I looked round directly, and saw Monkton standing in the room.

A livid paleness overspread his face, and his eyes were turned away from me with the same extraordinary expression in them to which I have already alluded.
"Do you mind leaving the ball early to-night ?" he asked, still not looking at me.
"Not at all," said I."Can I do anything for you?
Are you ill ?" "No--at least nothing to speak of.

Will you come to my rooms ?" "At once, if you like." "No, not at once.

_I_ must go home directly; but don't you come to me for half an hour yet.