"Yes. But it was not Doris. That letter was not written of her own free will."
Dumb though the Rector might be under normal conditions, he could sometimes forget his dumbness, could sometimes rise to the occasion, if the need were great and if it came suddenly. Both these conditions were now fulfilled. He had to slay the hopes of this young fellow; and the more merciless plan might well in the end be the more merciful.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Maurice. My daughter wrote of her own free will."
"I cannot believe it!"
The responding gesture spoke so strongly of sympathy, not anger, that it took instant effect.
"Forgive me! I ought not to have said that. You of course mean— believe—what you say. But you do not know! Doris never wrote that letter to me—herself!"
"The actual wording may have been suggested. She found it difficult, and asked for help. But she had made up her mind. The decision was her own."
A white curtain spread itself over the bronzed face.
"If she herself tells me so—with her own lips—"
"She is away for the day; and at her own suggestion. This ought to convince you. She guessed that you might come, and she thought it better to be absent."