Presently a telegram was brought to her, and Amethyst came running up.
“Not from Lucian, mamma?”
“Oh no, my dear child. I should like to weep a little over this bit of news. Dear old Tony has been so convenient, and I like to have a man about the house; but, as he says, it wouldn’t be right to let such a chance slip. So he’s going to marry this heiress. Ah, well, it’s a great sacrifice in some ways.—What’s that?”
A sudden piercing shriek interrupted the sweet melancholy flow of Lady Haredale’s tones. Una sprang up from the steps, threw up her arms, made a movement as if to rush away, but either fell, or flung herself down headlong, across a bed of scarlet geraniums. Tory, who had come running up to hear the news, with a watering-pot in her hand, deliberately turned, and emptied its contents on Una’s head, with the result of causing her to start up, choking with sobs, half of rage, half of misery.
“Don’t be such a fool, Una,” said Tory, sharply. “You’ve known it was coming, you’ve always known it was no use.”
Una rushed away into the house, her sobs and half-choked screams echoing as she went.
“What does it mean?” said Amethyst, appalled. “It means,” said Tory, “that Tony was always fond of kissing us and spooning us, when he was hanging about my lady. But Una has been over head and ears in love with him ever since I can remember, and he liked it and called her his little wife, and she’d sit all day in the window watching for him, or hide in the passage waiting for a kiss.”
“Oh, my dear child,” said Lady Haredale, “of course Tony was only in play.”
“Yes, but Una wasn’t. And lately he has been trying to get her out of it. That’s why she has been so miserable; only she didn’t want Amethyst to know.”
“It’s quite absurd,” said Lady Haredale, “those things should never go too far. It’s quite Una’s fault. I shall have to bring her out, when you are married, Amethyst, to put it out of her head. As if Tony cared for a chit like her!”