“My dear love,” he whispered, remorsefully, “I am satisfied. I will never doubt you again. This has been a bitter torture to me. Your father hinted at it long ago, and—and——”
“Well?”
Her tones were cold and hard.
“You told me that it was not true.”
“And you have listened to other falsehoods—to other childish tittle-tattle. Oh, Harold! what will my future life be if I wed a jealous man?”
“It shall never occur again, my darling. Do not punish me more, I beseech you!” cried Sir Harold.
“Why do you not question the viscount?” she demanded, scornfully.
Then she bowed her head and sobbed bitterly.
Sir Harold returned home that evening with a heavy heart. For the first time since their engagement he and Elaine had not exchanged a kiss at parting.
She had persistently remained in her own apartments, and at a late hour he had ridden away to Annesley Park, his heart torn with conflicting doubts and fears.