"Come here, Tyr, it's all right. But what is your trouble? If you will only trust me, I feel sure I can help you," she says, breathlessly, for she does not wish her friend to miss her.
"You help me! go away with your smooth serpent tongue; away to that other hussy, in her silks and jewels, robbing an honest woman of her——"
But her sentence was never finished, for the man is coming; and quick as a deer she is out of sight.
Mrs. Dale is quietly seated by the cheerful grate, apparently absorbed in "Cleveland's winning card," as given in Judge, when her hostess returns, looking sad and troubled.
"I don't know how it is I feel so nervous to-night, dear," she said, seeing to the window fastenings; "I am so glad you are with me, but you will find me very doleful."
"Not a bit of it, Mrs. Gower; I am no relation to an acquaintance of mine, who is not content unless one is making a buffoon of oneself for her especial delectation."
"I fear she would cut my acquaintance in my present mood. I am going to ask you a favor, dear; it is to call me Elaine; I shall feel less alone in this big world, and can talk to you more freely, hearing my Christian name. I dare say it is a childish fancy for a woman of my age, but——"
"But me—no buts. Elaine, we are true friends, and you have some secret trouble which I ought to share, else, what use is my friendship to you; you will tell it me, dear?" and the pretty Irish eyes look up into the dark ones bending over her with a questioning look.
"Tell me first, dear, did you recognize anyone in the garden to-night?"
"I did, Elaine."