"No," said Beaumont sullenly, "I am not."
Reginald turned a shade paler and laughed bitterly.
"What have I done to be punished like this?" he said, raising his face in agony. "You have taken away the wealth I wrongfully possessed, you have deprived me of my good name, of my self-respect, but, as God is above us, you shall not make me vile in my own sight by doing your wicked will."'
Another moment and the door closed, so that Patience and Beaumont were alone. Rising from her seat she took off her bonnet.
"What are you going to do?" asked Beaumont savagely, all his innate brutality showing itself now that the mask was dropped.
"I am going to stay here, to-night," she said, unsteadily walking to the door, "and to-morrow I will go to London, never to return."
"What about the Grange?"
"I shall never go back to the Grange," answered the woman slowly, "there is no home for me there; you have done your worst, Basil Beaumont--done your worst--and failed."
Again the door closed and Beaumont was left alone--alone with his ruined hopes and his despair.
"Failed," he muttered savagely, looking into the fire. "Yes, I have failed to get the money, but I shall not fail to ruin Reginald Blake for all that; he thinks he will still marry the heiress of the Grange; he can set his mind at rest--he will never marry Una Challoner."