He arrived at the Bays house an hour past noon, and Rita soon had him to herself in the front parlor. When they entered the room and were alone he took her hand; but she withdrew it, saying:—
"No, no; wait till you hear what has happened."
He readily saw that something terrible had transpired. "What is it, Rita? Tell me quickly."
"I can't, Dic, till I have your solemn promise that you will never repeat what I am about to tell you."
"But, Rita—" he began, in expostulation.
"No—no, you must promise. You must swear—if you will hear."
"I promise. I swear if you wish. What can it be?"
Then she drew him to a settee, and with downcast eyes began her piteous story.
"Monday evening Mr. Williams came to call upon me. You know you said I must receive him kindly. I did so. And he again asked me to—to—you know—to marry him. When I told him it was impossible, he grew angry; and when I became frightened and tried to leave the room, he caught me by the hand and would not let me go. Then he told me again how desperately he cared for me; and when I answered angrily and tried to escape, he held me and—and—oh, Dic, I can't tell you. I thought I could, but I can't. I—I loathe myself." She bent her head forward, and covering her face with her hands, sobbed convulsively.
"Go on, Rita. My God! you must tell me," demanded Dic.