"I hope you won't fight," she said, in a tone of appeal, "because it would have to be with me. If anything could break my heart, that would."
She knew how near to self-betrayal she had gone, but in her eagerness she was reckless of the danger.
"How do you know it wouldn't break mine too?" he asked, with a scrutiny that searched her eyes. "But there are times in life when men have just to fight—and let their hearts be broken. In becoming responsible for Evie's happiness I've given a pledge from which I can't withdraw—"
"But that's where you don't understand her—"
"Possibly; but it's where I understand myself."
"Tea is served, miss," the maid said, coming forward to where they talked in undertones. At the same minute there was a shuffling at the door and Wayne entered from his drive. Ford would have gone forward to help him, but she put out her hand and stopped him.
"He likes to find his way himself," she whispered.
"They tell me there's tea in here," Wayne said, cheerily, from the doorway.
"There's more than tea," Miriam replied in as bright a tone as she could assume. "There's Mr. Strange, whom you met last night."
"Ah, that's good." Wayne groped his way toward the voices. "How do you do! Glad to see you. It's windy out-of-doors. One feels the winter beginning to nip."