“If you will accept that box,” I said, letting him kiss my hand, and feeling inclined to kiss his.
Then I drove home, with my heart singing, for I felt almost sure that I had trumped Godensky’s last trick now.
When I reached home Miss Forrest was there. She had brought the diamonds in the brocade bag. Oddly enough, the ribbons which fastened it were torn out, as if there had been a struggle for the possession of the bag. But Miss Forrest did not explain this, or even allude to it at all.
I thanked her for coming and for bringing the jewels. “I have kept my promise,” I said. “The man you love will be free in a few days. Will you let me say that I think you are a very noble pair, and I hope you will be happy together.”
“I shall try to make up to him for—my hateful suspicions and—everything,” she said, like a repentant child. “I love him so much!”
“And he you. You almost broke his heart by throwing him over; I saw that. But how gloriously you will mend it again!”
“Oh, I hope so!” she cried. “And you—have I really spoiled your life by forcing you to make that promise? I pray that I haven’t.”
“I thought you had, but I was mistaken,” I answered. “The thing you have made me do has proved a blessing. I may have—altered some of the facts a little, but none of those that concern Mr. Dundas. And a woman has to use such weapons as she has, against cruel enemies.”
“I hope you’ll defeat yours,” said Miss Forrest.
“I begin to believe I shall,” said I. And we shook hands. She is the only girl I ever saw who seemed to me worthy of Ivor Dundas.