again? The tears she had kept back all that day asserted themselves
as she flung open the library door and ran across the garden into the
myrtle walk. "In hospital!" The words had been ringing in her ears
though Sir James's complacent speech, through the oddly constrained
luncheon, through the half-tender, half-masculine reasoning of her
companion. He HAD loved her--he had suffered and perhaps thought her
false. Suddenly she stopped. At the further end of the walk the ominous
stranger whom she wished to avoid was standing looking towards the
house.
How provoking! She glanced again; he was leaning against a tree and was
obviously as preoccupied as she was herself. He was actually sketching
the ivy-covered gable of the library. What presumption! And he was
sketching with his left hand. A sudden thrill of superstition came over
her. She moved eagerly forward for a better view of him. No! he had two
arms!
But his quick eye had already caught sight of her, and before she could
retreat she could see that he had thrown away his sketch-book and was
hastening eagerly toward her. Amazed and confounded she would have
flown, but her limbs suddenly refused their office, and as he at last
came near her with the cry of "Helen!" upon his lips, she felt herself
staggering, and was caught in his arms.
"Thank God," he said. "Then she HAS let you come to me!"
She disengaged herself slowly and dazedly from him and stood looking at
him with wondering eyes. He was bronzed and worn; there was the second
arm: but still it was HE. And with the love, which she now knew he had
felt, looking from his honest eyes!
"SHE has let me come!" she repeated vacantly. "Whom do you mean?"
"The duchess."
"The duchess?"
"Yes." He stopped suddenly, gazing at her blank face, while his own grew
ashy white. "Helen! For God's sake tell me! You have not accepted him?"
"I have accepted no one," she stammered, with a faint color rising to
her cheeks. "I do not understand you."
A look of relief came over him. "But," he said amazedly, "has not the
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