“Yes, I do,” answered Caroline. “General Randolph,—I went and brought him there, because they wouldn’t send my telegram,—he was in a fearful temper——”
“But Edith? Can’t you tell me what she did?”
“I can’t, Mrs. Varney, for I don’t know. I waited for her in the hall, and when she came out she couldn’t speak. Then we hurried home. I tried to get her to tell me, but she wouldn’t say a word except that her heart was broken, and that’s all I know, Mrs. Varney, truly, truly.”
“I believe you, my dear. I know you would tell me if you could.”
“I certainly would, for I love——”
There was a loud ring at the front door. It was evidently unlocked, for, without waiting for an answer, it was thrown open, roughly, and through the hall and into the drawing-room stalked Mr. Arrelsford. He was wildly excited, evidently in a tremendous hurry, and utterly oblivious to manners or anything else. He had been checked and thwarted so many times that he was in a bad temper for anything.
“Is your daughter in the house?” he began roughly, without any further preliminaries or salutation, without even removing his hat.
Mrs. Varney drew herself up and looked at him. But he paid no attention to her at all.
“Answer,” he said harshly.
She bowed her head in the affirmative, scarcely able to speak in her indignation at his manner and bearing.