"Then he lies; the only woman I ever did love, and ever shall love is----"
She placed her hand on his lips.
"Hush! Do not mention her name till the mystery of Leopold Verschoyle's death is solved."
"And then?" he said eagerly, catching her hand.
She drew it away quickly with a stifled cry.
"I cannot say," she said wildly, wringing her hands; "God only knows the end. My sister must defend herself from this charge. I will write to her at once."
At this moment a knock came to the door, and Carmela had just time to turn and conceal her haggard face when a servant entered with a telegram, and Ronald took it while the man retired.
"This telegram is for you," he said, holding it out.
"For me?" she said, turning and taking it from him; "what can it be about?" and she tore open the envelope, read the telegram, and gave a cry of delight.
"What is it?" asked Ronald, anxiously.