The two friends were interested and amused: time passed quickly, the Hof Kirche clock struck ten, and yet there was no sign of Cara. She had been gone considerably more than an hour,—an hour and a half.
“At what time did you order the motor-boat?” asked Letty, who began to be uneasy. As Mrs. Hesketh uttered the word ‘eleven’ a sudden flood of rose-coloured light illuminated the entire scene. For a moment, every object was visible with the clearest distinctness, the ruddy glow recalled a transformation spectacle. By its assistance, the ladies beheld, close at hand, a small skiff carrying a jaunty orange lantern, and in the boat were a young couple; a man, who was twanging a mandoline, whilst a laughing girl managed the oars with practised dexterity. All at once the man bent towards her—and then the light failed.
Letty gave an audible gasp.
“I—could I be mistaken?” She turned on her companion a face of horror.
“No, I’m afraid not. Four eyes are better than two—that was Cara rowing about with—Berthe Baer! From what I have gathered in the few days I’ve been at the Paradis, Cara has been throwing dust in your eyes for years.”
“Oh, Cousin Maude—you—you—talk to Tomlin!” cried Letty with indignation.
“No, my dear, but Frau Hurter has been talking to me. Her son’s raging jealousy aroused her suspicions, and she has kept her eyes open.”
“But Cara is only a foolish, wild, headstrong child!”
“Child no longer, Letty, but a young woman who is not to be trusted.”
“What am I to do?” faltered her friend helplessly.