"I am denying and trying to deny nothing. I refuse to discuss the subject. I suppose I must make up my mind to expect insults from strangers, but I am not compelled to receive them from my friends—or from those who were once my friends. I have no friends, now; I never had father or mother or—or—and now I have neither friend nor lover. Knowing what I now know of love and friendship—I am glad!"
"Oh, Lynn, Lynn! This to me! when I would move heaven and earth to help you!" cried Mrs. Hadwell, miserably. "How can you doubt my friendship? I tell you that if, to-morrow, everyone threw you over my house would still be open to you."
"Your house! Do you think I would ever enter it again? Fool! We've known each other from childhood up, and yet, to-day, you think you can insult me and be forgiven. The sight of you makes me feel sick. Don't stop me, don't speak to me"—
Mrs. Hadwell had risen to intercept her. Lynn hastened past her to the door. There stood Gerald Amherst, white as death.
For a long moment the three stood in silence. Lynn was the first to break it and her voice was mocking.
"You interrupted an affecting farewell, Mr. Amherst. I was saying good-bye to my bosom friend, just as, not long ago, I said good-bye to my devoted lover. Having done what politeness demands I shall now take my departure."
"No!" exclaimed Estelle, rushing forward. "Don't let her, Mr. Amherst. She doesn't know what she's saying or doing and I must keep her till she understands. Lynn, wait! Let me explain."
Lynn, with a gesture that was almost majestic, motioned Amherst from the doorway where he still stood. He hesitated, trembling and uncertain; and while he hesitated, steps sounded in the hall behind and Mrs. Waite spoke.
"Mr. Amherst, don't go away! nor you, either, Miss Thayer. I wish very much to see you, both. I am sorry to be late, but"—
Amherst moved aside, mechanically, and Amy Waite entered, followed by Ricossia. The two women stood where they were, unable to speak or move; and Ricossia spoke, pleasantly.