"Gone!"
"Yes, for good! There will be no wedding the day after to-morrow."
"My dear Eleanor, are you mad?"
"No, I am sane at last," said Lady Eleanor. "The engagement is broken off. Do you remember my telling you, when I heard of Eustace's death, and his boys', that I was afraid things would go wrong? Well, they have gone wrong. For Heaven's sake, don't stare at me like that! Tell my maid to pack my clothes; I shall leave here to-morrow."
"But—but, what has happened?" demanded Lady Denby.
Lady Eleanor laughed harshly.
"He has found the girl he has been in love with all this time. It is not me he wanted to marry, but her. That's all! Tell them to pack up!"
"But—but, my dear Eleanor!"
Lady Eleanor flung her wet hair from her face.
"There is no 'but,'" she said wearily. "He has gone. Let us go away out of England, no matter where. And—and the day after to-morrow was to be my wedding day! No wedding day will ever dawn for me!"