Unconsciously Agnes had clung to Sprague's hand. Now, as the sense of danger disappeared, she became aware of what she was doing; and, in sudden embarrassment, she withdrew her hand from his reassuring clasp.
The artist, recalling the object of his visit, at once became grave and formal.
"I am sorry to intrude upon you at this unconventional hour, Miss Murdock, but I found this letter in my studio to-day. It was evidently dropped by you yesterday; and, thinking it might be important, I——"
"A letter? What letter?" asked Agnes, puzzled.
Sprague held out the sealed envelope. The young girl tore it open and cast a hurried glance at its contents. Then suddenly understanding, she tore the paper to shreds, and threw these angrily into the fire which burned brightly in the large open fire-place.
"Oh, that!" she exclaimed contemptuously. And then after a pause:
"Do you mean to say you thought——?"
She stopped short, seized by a sudden shyness.
"What else could I think?" said Sprague softly.
He was watching the fragments of paper as they flared upon the hearth. The flame which consumed them seemed to shed a radiant glow upon his heart.