Stella waved her hand with weary impatience.
"I am in your hands," she said; "what am I to do now? where am I to go? No! I know that; I will go back——" then she stopped, and a look of pain and fear came upon her beautiful face as she thought of the alarm with which her uncle would discover her flight, and the explanation which he would demand. "How can I go back? What can I say?"
"I have thought of that," he said, in a low voice. "I had foreseen the difficulty, and I have provided against it. I know that what I have done may only increase your anger, but I did it for the best."
"What have you done?" asked Stella.
"I have telegraphed to your uncle to say that I had tempted you and Frank to run up to town, and that I would bring you back this evening. I knew he would not be anxious then, seeing that Frank was with you."
Stella stared at the firm, self-reliant face. He had provided for every contingency, had foreseen everything, and had evidently felt so assured of the success of his plans. She could not refrain a slight shudder as she realized what sort of a man this was who held her in his power. She felt that it were as useless to attempt to escape him as it would be for a bird to flutter against the bars of its cage.
"Have I done wrong?" he asked, standing beside her, his head bent, his whole attitude one of deference and humility.
She shook her head.
"No, I suppose not. It does not matter if he can be spared pain."