“Think what you like of me!” I cried. “I have made a muddle of the whole business—a wretched, unhappy muddle. But I suffer, too, Duke. I never knew what Miss—Miss Mellison was to me till now, when I have lost her.”
“I don’t ask to see her letter. You haven’t misread it by any possibility?”
“No—it’s perfectly clear. She refuses me and holds out no hope.”
He set his frowning brows and fell into a gloomy silence. He took no notice of me even when I told him that I must go into the open air for awhile to walk and try to find surcease of my racking trouble.
“Now,” I thought, when I got outside, “for the villainous truth. To strike at me like that! It was worthy of him—worthy of him. And I am to blame for leaving them together—I, who pretended to an affection for the girl and was ready to swear to love and protect her forevermore. What a pitiful rag of manliness! What courage that daren’t even now tell the truth to my friend up there! Friend? He’s done with me, I expect. But for the other. He didn’t give her my history—not he. Perhaps he didn’t as I meant it, but I never dreamed that he would play upon that second stop for his devils of hate to dance to; I never even thought of it. What a hideous fool I have been! Oh, Jason, my brother, if it had only been you instead of Modred!”
I jerked to a stop. Some formless thoughts had been in my mind to hurry on into the presence of the villain who had dealt me such a coward blow, and to drive his slander in one red crash down his throat. Now, in an instant, it broke upon me that I had no knowledge of where he lived—that by my own act I had yesterday cut off all communication between us. Perhaps, though, in his cobra-like dogging of me he would be driven before long to seek me out again of his own accord, that he might gloat over the havoc he had occasioned. I must bide my time as patiently as I could on the chance.
Late at night I returned and lay down upon the sofa in the sitting-room. I felt unclean for Duke’s company and would not go up to him. Let me do myself justice. It was not all dread of his anger that kept me from him. There was a most lost, sorrowful feeling in me at having thus requited all his friendship and his generosity.
As I lay and writhed in sickly thought, my eye was attracted by the glimmering of some white object set prominently on the mantelpiece. I rose and found it was a letter addressed to me in his handwriting. Foreseeing its contents I tore it open and read:
“I think it best that our partnership should cease and I find lodging elsewhere. You will understand my reasons. Dolly comes first with me, that’s all. It may have been your error; I can’t think it was your willful fault; but that she would have refused you without some good reason I can’t believe. Your manner seems to point to the suspicion that somehow her happiness is threatened. I may be wrong, but I intend to set myself to find out; and until some explanation is forthcoming, I think it best that we should live apart. I shall call here to-morrow during the dinner hour and arrange about having my things moved and settle matters as far as I am concerned. Your friend,
Duke Straw.”