She had moved nearer to him, expecting him to take her in his arms and

kiss her; but his coldness, his silence, was telling upon her, and the

question broke from her impatiently.

"Haven't you had my letter?" he asked.

"Your letter? No. Did you write? I am sorry! What did you write?"

"I wrote"--he hesitated a moment, but what was the good of trying to

"break" the news? "I wrote to tell you of my engagement----"

She started and stared at him.

"Your engagement! Your----Drake! What do you mean? Your engagement!

To--to whom?"

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"Sit down, Luce," he said gravely, tenderly, and he went to lead her to

a chair; but she shook her hand free and stood, still staring at him

blankly, her face growing paler.

"I wrote and told you all about it. I am engaged to Miss Lorton. You do

not know her; but she is the young lady I met at Shorne Mills, the place

in Devonshire----I was engaged to her then, but it was broken off, and

we were separated for a time; but we met again----I am sorry, very

sorry, that you did not get my letter."

Her face was perfectly white by this time, her lips set tightly. He

feared she was going to faint; but, with a great effort she fought

against the deadly weakness which assailed her.

"So that was what you wrote!" she breathed, every word leaving her lips

as if it caused her pain to utter. "You--you--have deceived me."

"No, Luce," he said quickly.

"Yes, yes! When I left here you----Is it not true that you intended

asking me to be your wife, to renew our engagement? Answer!"

She glanced up at him, her teeth showing between her parted lips.

He inclined his head.

"Yes, it is true; but I had not met--I had not heard----Oh, what is the

use of all this recrimination, Luce? I am engaged to the girl I love."

She raised her hand as if to strike him. He caught it gently, and as

gently released it.

"I will go," she panted. "I will go at once. Be good enough to order my

carriage----"

She put her hand to her head as if she did not know what she was saying;

and Drake's heart ached with pity for her--at that moment, at any rate.

"Don't think too hardly of me, Luce," he said, in a low voice. "And you

have not lost much, remember."




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