Stella started as the boy came in, and would have spoken, but he put his finger to his lips and beckoned her.
They both passed out without attracting the attention of the absorbed artist, and Frank drew Stella into the garden, and to a small arbor at the further end. She looked at his flushed, excited face with a smile.
"What does this mysterious conduct mean, Frank?" she asked.
He put his arm round her and drew her to a seat.
"I've got something for you, Stella," he said. "What will you give me for it? It is worth—well, untold treasure, but I'll be satisfied with a kiss."
She bent and kissed his forehead.
"Of course it is nothing," she said, with a laugh; but as he took the letter from his pocket and held it up her face changed. "What is it Frank?"
He put the letter in her hand, and, with an instinctive delicacy got up and walked away.
"Read it, Stel," he said. "I'll be back directly."
Stella took the letter and opened it. When Frank came back she was sitting with the open letter in her hand, her face very pale, her eyes filled with a strange light.