"May I see it too?" she asked. The question was so clear and so unexpected, that every eye was riveted on the pale girl, whose gaze was bent on the telegram,—that is to say every eye, save those of Mr. Mayne, who was apparently engulfed in his own trouble.
"I suppose he will die out there alone!" he groaned. "Of course Julia won't stir, I'm too old,—and there's nobody else to go."
"I will go," announced Nancy, steadying herself by a tall Charles the First chair, and looking round the assembled company, with a white and rigid face. "I must tell you all at last, and now,—that—that—" and her voice sank till it became a whisper—but an audible whisper, "I am his wife!"
"Nancy!" ejaculated Mrs. De Wolfe, in a key of contrasting depth.
"It's true," she continued with livid lips, "we were married by my father's deathbed, two and a half years ago, and——" here she completely broke down.
"Nancy, child, don't, I'll tell it," volunteered Mrs. Ffinch, stretching out her arm. "No, she is not raving, as you might naturally suppose," she added, glancing at her companions. "I know all about it,—and Mrs. Hicks was present,—she saw them married!"
"Yes," corroborated Mrs. Hicks, "I did, and it's about the only secret I've ever been able to keep!"
"But why a secret?" demanded Mrs. De Wolfe, who had recovered her composure.
"We were married to relieve my father's mind," replied Nancy, who had also reclaimed her self-possession. "I was alone in the world, and very poor, and he was dreadfully unhappy about me; Captain Mayne and I did not care for one another—in those days! Please!" looking round the circle—"do forgive me for deceiving you,—but we agreed to keep the marriage secret, and to be strangers always, and I must confess, that I behaved very badly. I was distracted, and I ran away; but I was so young, and so heart-broken! It is different now; I shall leave with Mrs. Hicks on Friday, and pray that I may be in time.—I am going to send off a cable," and looking like the wraith of Nancy Travers, she left them.
The old mahogany door closed upon a long expressive silence, presently to be broken by Mrs. Ffinch, who gladly took up her parable. Here was her hour! what an opening for her natural eloquence, and love of dominating a situation! As she unravelled Nancy's past, she had the supreme happiness of knowing, that her listeners actually hung upon her words,—especially old Mr. Mayne, with his head advanced, and hand behind his left and best, ear!