The curtain at the lower end of the room parted, and a footman stood framed in the opening. "A message for Miss Grayson," he announced discreetly.
Lady Dinsmore arched her eyebrows significantly. "Poltavo!" she breathed.
Doris darted forward and snatched the letter from the man's hand. She broke the seal and tore out the contents at a glance. A little strangled cry of joy escaped her. Her face, which had been pale, flushed a rosy hue. She bent to read it again, her lips parted. Her whole aspect breathed renewed hope and radiance. She folded the note, slipped it into her bosom, and, without a word, glided from the room.
Cord stared after her, white to the lips with rage and wounded love.
Lady Dinsmore rose briskly to her feet. "Excuse me, dear Cord," she murmured, "and wait here!" She rustled after her niece.
Van Ingen paced up and down the room distractedly, momentarily expecting her reappearance. Alternate waves of jealousy and grief inundated his being. Only a short half-hour ago, with Doris' head pillowed upon his breast, he had felt supremely happy; now he was plunged into an abyss of utter wretchedness. What were the contents of that brief note which had affected her so powerfully? Why should she secrete it with such care unless it conveyed a lover's assurance? His foot came into contact with a chair, and he swore under his breath. Then he sighed.
The servant, who had entered unobserved, coughed deprecatingly. "Her ladyship sends her excuses, sir," he said, "and says she will write you later." He ushered the young man to the outer door.
Upon the top step Van Ingen halted stiffly. He found himself face to face with Poltavo.
The count greeted him gravely. "A sad business!" he murmured. "You have seen the ladies? How does Miss Grayson bear it? She is well?"
Van Ingen gazed at him darkly. "Your note recovered her!" he said with harsh bitterness.