‘To say one word to Mrs. Denis,’ she gasps imploringly, damp breaking out upon her young forehead. ‘Oh!’—beating her hands with miserable agony upon her chest—‘think how it will be! They will for ever and ever remember me as ungrateful—unloving—a creature who had taken their love, and abused it. They will be glad to forget me.’
‘I hope so,’ says he coldly, utterly unmoved—nay, knowing even pleasure in her grief. ‘The sooner they forget you, and you them, the better. “They!”’ He repeats the word. ‘Why don’t you say “he” and be done with it?’ cries he furiously. ‘What a —— hypocrite you are!’
He almost drags her to the gate. Ella, half fainting, finds herself at it. It is the last step. In here lies safety and happiness and peace—out there—— Moore turns the key in the lock, and pulls at the handle of the door. Yes, it is all over. The door opens. At this instant a long, low, passionate cry escapes from Ella.
Wyndham is standing in the roadway just outside the gate!
CHAPTER LII.
‘Narrow minds think nothing right that is above their own capacity.’
‘What is the meaning of this?’ says Wyndham. He comes in quickly, locking the door and putting the key in his pocket. He has taken in the situation at a glance.
‘It means that I have come here to take this girl out of your hands,’ says Moore, who shows no fear, or anything else, save a concentrated hatred of the man before him.
‘Then you have come on an idle errand,’ says Wyndham haughtily. ‘I should advise you to amuse yourself on Christmas Days, in future, with something more likely to prove amusing. This young lady’—with strong emphasis—‘does not stir from this spot except at her own desire.’
‘She is coming, for all that,’ says Moore doggedly. Wyndham glances from him to Ella, who now, white as a sheet, is standing trembling, like a frightened creature, with one small hand uplifted to her lips, as if to hide their trembling. Her eyes are agonized, but in some way Wyndham can see that, though she fancies hope dead, still hope in him has lit one small spark.