A telegraph-girl was mounting the steps. He heard the bell ring without interest. Gazing out, with his back towards Terry, he put to her what he intended should be his final question. "You promised him last night—then why did you hurry round to me this morning?"
Her dress rustled and her breathing quickened. "Because——" she commenced and failed. He did not turn his head. She tried again in a lower voice, "Because I want you to get my promise back."
He swung round and crossed to where she was still sitting. With his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, he stared down at her golden head. "But, Terry dear, why? Look at me. You must tell me."
She did not look at him. "I'm frightened. Nobody knows as yet; so before they know—— Oh, Tabs, you're so clever; you can do anything." And then she repeated whimperingly, like a child over a broken toy, "I want you to get my promise back."
"Listen to me, Terry dearest," he spoke coaxingly, "don't be a baby. What is it that you're asking me to do? Is it to see him for you and to break the
news that you've altered your mind over night. You know he'll want reasons. What shall I tell——?"
She lifted her head, stretching back her throat so that all her face looked up at him. "If you'll still have me——" His hands on her shoulders tightened. "Say that you still want me, Tabs." For answer his head slowly nodded, but his eyes never left her eyes. "Tell him that I'm engaged to you, instead."
In the tumult of surprised desire he bent over her, but he got no further, for a tap fell on the panel of the door and the handle turned. He drew himself upright quickly and stepped back aloofly. "What is it?"
"A telegram, your Lordship." Ann entered. "I told the girl to wait in case there was an answer."
He tore it open, glanced through it and handed it to Terry. To Ann he said, "There won't be any answer."