"No!" said Mrs. Lawrence, and it seemed to me that there was abhorrence in the look she turned upon the other woman. "Yet stay," she added quickly. "Go to your sister. Tell her I wish to see her—here—at once."
I saw the girl's start of surprise; she half-opened her lips to speak, then glanced at me again and closed them.
"Very well, ma'am," she said, and left the room.
Mrs. Lawrence turned to me, still breathing quickly under the stress of the emotion which shook her.
"You must leave me to solve this mystery, Mr. Lester," she said rapidly, "by myself and in my own way. I must find who it is that has dared to meddle in my family affairs. I was prepared to forgive—but there are some things which can never be forgiven—however deeply one may pity——"
She checked herself; perhaps she saw the intentness of my interest.
"But that is no concern of yours," she went on more calmly, and I could not but admit the justice of the rebuke. "You're seeking Marcia. In that I would help you, if I could, but I don't know where she is. As soon as I do know, I will summon Mr. Curtiss; I promise you that. Perhaps you will find her without my help. If you do, tell Mr. Curtiss to go to her and demand an explanation; it is due him, and she has my full permission to tell him everything. Then let him decide whether she shall be his wife. We will both bow to his decision."
"But you've heard from her?" I persisted.
"Only this," she answered, and thrust a crumpled piece of paper into my hand, then turned and left the room.
I smoothed it out and read the message at a glance, noting that it was dated from New York:—