"Adelaide."
To comply with her request at such an hour would be simple folly; infatuated as he was he would not deliberately commit himself to such an act.
"Surely she cannot have been here," he thought. "But if another hand placed this note upon my desk, another person must share the secret which it is imperative should never be revealed. I must be firm with her. There must be an end to this imprudence. Fortunately there is no place in Edward's nature for suspicion."
He blushed with shame at the unworthy thought. Five years ago, could he have seen--he who up to that time never had stooped to meanness and deceit--the position in which he now stood, he would have rejected the mere suspicion of its possibility with indignation. But by what fatally easy steps had he reached it!
In the midst of these reflections his heart almost stopped beating at the sound of a light footstep without. He listened, and heard a soft tapping on the door, not with the knuckles, but with the finger-tips; he opened the door, and Adelaide stood smiling before him.
With her finger at her lips she stepped into the room, and closed the door behind her.
"It would not do for me to be seen," she whispered. "Do not be alarmed; I shall not be here longer than one little minute. I have only come to wish you good-night. Give me a chair, or I shall sink to the ground. I am really very, very frightened. Quick; bring me a chair. Do you not see how weak I am?"
He drew a chair towards Her, and she sank languidly into it.
"As you would not come to me," she said, "I was compelled to come to you."
"Compelled!" he said.