"Grantley," she cried, "don't touch the tree—I ask it as a favor—you will not refuse—let it stand as it is."
He gave one look at her face and turned his head away to hide the expression of anger and doubt which crept over his own.
"Can you give any reason?"
"No, no! It is one of my fancies—only gratify it—let the tree alone for a day or two at least."
Fierce passion shook Mellen like a sudden tempest. His first impulse was to drag her into the house and force from her lips the secret and the mystery which surrounded her, but he controlled the impulse and answered:
"As you please. I will leave it for the present."
With this curt concession Mellen walked away, and Elizabeth went back into the house. She paused to rest a few moments in the library; her limbs were shaking so violently that they refused to support her. She was roused by the sound of her husband's voice in conversation with old Benson—he might come in and find her there.
She started up like a wounded animal that concentrates its dying strength in one wild effort for escape—hurried from the room and up the stairs into her own chamber.
Elsie was still lying on the sofa; she sprang up as Elizabeth entered.
"Will he leave it?" she cried. "Will he leave it?"