"And with the last mockery of a look, in which every detail of her beauty flashed with almost an unbearable insistence upon my eyes, I turned my back upon her and strode toward the outer door."
CHAPTER XI.
HONORA.
"But I did not pass it. A sound struck my ear. It was that of a smothered sob, and it came from the room where I had first seen Miss Dudleigh. Instantly a vision of that sweet form bowed in misery struck upon my still palpitating heart; and moved at a grief I knew to be well nigh as bitter as my own, I stopped before the half-closed door, and gently pushed it open.
"Miss Dudleigh at once advanced to meet me. Tears were on her cheeks, but she walked very firmly, and took my hand with an inquiry in her soft eyes that almost drove me distracted.
"'What shall I do?' I cried to myself. 'Tell this woman to beware, or leave her to fight her battles alone?' No answer came from my inmost soul. I was appalled by her weakness and my own selfishness, and bowed my head and said nothing.
"'A strange ending to the hopes of this day,' were the words that thereupon fell from her lips. 'Is—is—Marah ill, or did one of her strange moods overtake her?'
"'I do not understand Miss Leighton,' I replied. 'The time I have spent in the study of her character has been wasted. I shall never undertake to open the book again.'
"'Then,' she faltered, and an absolute terror grew in her eyes, 'you are going to leave her. She is going to be free, and—' The white cheeks grew scarlet. She evidently feared that she had shown me her heart.