“That fellow! Merciful Heaven! Bradstone! Oh, Faradeane!”
“You are surprised?”
“Yes; surprised is not the word. Why—why, I never thought that she would accept him. I knew he was pursuing her, but I never thought—if I had any fear at all, and it only came to me while I was waiting here, it was that it was you she might care for.”
Faradeane’s face went white.
“It is you who are mad,” he said, sternly.
“Forgive me,” pleaded Bertie, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “But I’ve seen her with both you and him; and I’ve heard her speak to him, seen her look at him as if she disliked him, while to you she was all smiles.”
Faradeane sprang to his feet.
“That will do!” he said, in a low, harsh voice. “You are scarcely accountable for your words to-day, Bertie; but don’t you see, great heavens, man, how you are giving her away? Is Miss Vanley the kind of woman to engage herself to one man while she is in love——Bah! pull yourself together, and face the inevitable like a man,” and he paced to and fro impatiently.
Bertie hid his face in his hands, then he looked up.
“Faradeane, I’m sorry I should have said what I did, and yet I could have borne it better if—if it had been you, instead of him. You are—well, you are yourself, and are worthy of her.”