Courtlandt shook his head. The gesture conveyed, in some way, an excessive and signal sadness.
"In a moment more," he answered, "I shall be saying nothing to you. And I don't know that I shall ever willingly come into your presence again. Good-by."
Pauline gave no answer, sinking back into her seat as he disappeared.
Her eye lighted upon the fallen newspaper while she did so. Its half-crumpled folds made her forget that her cousin was departing. She suddenly sprang up again, and caught the sheet from the floor. A fire was blazing near by. She hurried toward the grate, intending to destroy the printed abomination.
But, pausing half-way, she once more burst into tears. A recollection cut her to the heart of how futile would be any attempt, now, to destroy the atrocious wrong itself. That must live and work its unmerited ill.
"And to this dark ending," she thought, with untold dejection, "has come my perfectly honest ambition—my fair and proper and wholesome plan!" And then, abruptly, her tearful eyes began to sparkle, while a bright, mirthless smile touched her lips.
"But I can at least have my retort," she decided. "He will help me—stand by me in this miserable emergency. I will send for him,—yes, I will send for Ralph at once! He will do just as I dictate, and I know what I shall dictate! Miss Cragge wrote that base screed, and Miss Cragge shall suffer accordingly!"
XIV.
She sent for Kindelon at once, but before her message could possibly have reached the office of the "Asteroid," he presented himself.