He took it from her and opened it. As he read a deadly pallor came over his face.
"Great Heaven!" he cried. "What can this mean?"
Lady Vaughan asked what had happened. He passed the note to her and she read:
"I have looked at you and have spoken to you for the last time, Adrian. I am going away and I shall never see any of you again. You will try to comfort Lady Vaughan. Pray Heaven my sin and my disgrace may not kill her.
"You will find out from the newspapers what I have gone to do; and oh, my lost dear love, when you read this, be merciful to me! I was so young, and I longed so for some of the brightness of life. I never loved him; and, as you will see, I repented—ah, me, so sorely!—before half the journey was accomplished. I have never loved any one but you—and that I have lost you is more bitter than death.
"Many people have died from less suffering than that which I am undergoing now. Oh, Adrian, I do not think I deserved this terrible punishment! I did not mean to do anything wrong. I do not ask you to forgive me! I know you never can. You will fling off all thought of me as of one unworthy. I told you I was unworthy, but I—oh, Adrian—I shall love you till I die! All my thoughts will be of you; and I pray to Heaven that I may die when I have achieved what I am going to do. Living, you must loathe me; dead, you will pity me.
"Adrian, I have written your name here. I have wept hot, bitter tears over it; I have kissed it; and now I must part from you, my heart's own love! Farewell for ever and ever!
"Hyacinth."
"What does it all mean?" he cried, great drops of anguish gathering on his brow. "Where is the child? What has she done?"
"I do not know," said Lady Vaughan—"I cannot understand it, Adrian. She has done nothing. What can she have done? All her life has been passed with me."