“All right!” he said. “I telephoned because I was waiting for her, and she didn’t come.”
“Waiting for—Caroline?”
“We had arranged to get married last night. She was to meet me, but she didn’t come,” he said, a little unsteadily. “Perhaps she just changed her mind. Perhaps she doesn’t want to see me any more. If that’s the case, I’ll trust you not to mention anything about me—to any one. You see now, don’t you, that I—I had to know?”
Lexy’s eyes filled with tears. Moved by a generous impulse, she held out her hand.
“I’m so awfully sorry!” she cried.
“Why? You mean—for God’s sake, tell me! You mean she has changed her mind?”
“I can’t tell you—not now.”
“You can’t leave it at that,” said he. He had taken her outstretched hand, and he held it tight. “I ought to know what has happened. I can’t believe that Caroline would let me down like that. She—she’s not that sort of girl. Something’s gone wrong. She wouldn’t leave me waiting and waiting there for her at Wyngate.”
“Wyngate!” cried Lexy. “But that was—”
She stopped abruptly. Caroline’s letter had been postmarked “Wyngate.” She had gone there to meet—some one. She had married—some one.