“I am sent,” she said, in a low, hesitating voice, “to tell you—” And then she paused. What had she been sent to tell him?
“To tell me that Miss Berrien is engaged and declines to see me, I presume,” said Mr. Kyrle, quietly, coming to her assistance. “I anticipated some such message. But may I ask why Miss Berrien has developed this sudden fear of meeting me? She certainly can not think that I will proceed to extremities and carry her off by force. It is possible that she might have feared something of the kind last night, but now—”
“Oh, pray don’t say such things here!” interrupted Aimée, finding her tongue in sheer dismay, as she glanced in apprehension from the staircase, down which her aunt might descend at any moment, to the parlor door out of which Mr. Meredith might issue. “Fanny told me to take you into this room, where we can speak quietly,” she went on quickly. “Will you come for a moment?”
She opened, as she spoke, a door which led into a small sitting-room. It was Mrs. Shreve’s private domain, but Fanny (who was her prime favorite) had obtained permission to use it in emergencies like the present, and when directing Aimée to go there she knew that Mrs. Shreve was at this time out of the house.
Mr. Kyrle hesitated an instant, then followed Aimée into the room, and when she had closed the door looked at her a little curiously.
“Why do you let your cousin put such a duty as this upon you?” he asked, abruptly. “Why do you not decline to aid her selfishness and duplicity? Then she would be forced to come and face the truth herself.”
“I do not think it would do her any good,” replied Aimée, simply, “and I am sure it would not do you any at all. I have come because she asked me—that is all. I do not approve of the way she is acting”—with a grave shake of the head—“but I could not refuse to help her, for she is in a difficulty.”
“I can very well imagine what it is,” said Mr. Kyrle, grimly, “and I assure you that I have no desire to add to the embarrassment of her position. I am simply here to end in a definite manner what I have been foolish enough to regard as a tie between us. I believe I told you last night that I would make no effort to see her, and had I followed my inclination I should have adhered to that resolve. But a little reflection showed me that to leave our relations as she desired them to be left was impossible on my part. It is necessary”—he spoke with emphasis, drawing together his straight, black brows in an unconscious frown—“that she shall clearly understand that by her own act she has ended all between us. I have a right to demand that she will see me in order to hear this.”
“Of course you have a right,” agreed Aimée, thinking the while how different this was to the pleadings Fanny had anticipated; “but just now it is impossible for her to see you, so the best thing you can do is to go away. I promise you that I will tell Fanny whatever you wish.”
“I have no doubt of that,” he said. “Any one who would undertake for another what you have already undertaken in this matter can be trusted, I am sure, to make a truthful report. But there are some things which should be said face to face; so I must beg you again to request Miss Berrien to see me. I will not detain her more than a few minutes.”