“Good-night,” he murmured. “Good-night, Doris! Some day you will know how happy you have made me! Some day when I have taught you to know what happiness means! Good-night, my love, my queen!”
She looked at him for a moment through a mist of tears—tears that fell upon the grave of her old love—and then glided from his side.
He stood, where she had left him, watching her till the glimmer of her white dress faded from his sight; then he threw himself on the ground and covered his eyes with his hands.
“Great Heaven!” he murmured, “am I mad or dreaming? Is she mine, mine, mine? Oh, my darling, my beautiful! I will keep my word! You shall be happy! I swear it! I swear——” he raised his hand to the silent, star-gemmed sky, then stopped and stared with a sudden horror, for there in front of him stood Mr. Spenser Churchill. He stood with his pale, smooth face smiling unctuously down upon him, a half-mocking smile curving the sleek lips.
“Ah, my dear Percy!” he murmured, smoothly. “How do you do? How do you do? Surprised to see me. Yes. You look rather startled. Almost as if you had forgotten me!”
Percy Levant rose to his feet, his eyes still fixed on the smiling face.
“By Heaven;” he breathed, almost with a groan. “I had forgotten you!”
“Really? Now wasn’t that a little ungrateful, eh? To forget your best friend—one who has always had your best and truest interests at heart! Tut, tut, my dear Percy.”
“When—when did you come?” demanded the other, in a low voice.
“Almost this moment. I have just looked in at the villa, and greeted our fair hostess. Hearing that my dear young friend, Miss Marlowe, was in the garden, I asked permission to come in search of her, and—er—found her so deeply engaged that I did not venture to intrude myself.”