"As if it were possible," she answered.
"I have been very happy to-day," he continued. "Such happiness cannot last. When you know what I am in reality you will be glad to forget me."
This was more than the detraction of the ardent lover. Meriel realised that there was the note of real suffering in his voice. She waited almost with dread for him to continue. And Guy was upon the point of pouring out his whole story. But the chance passed. A voice hailed them from the lawn of the Hall.
"Is that you, Meriel?"
"Auntie is watching for our return," she said shyly. "Come."
Guy followed her along the path to the house.
"To-morrow," he said and she understood.
CHAPTER XVIII
CORNELIUS JESSEL DREAMS OF A FORTUNE
The morning was heavy with an almost unnatural calm. By nine o'clock the sun's rays glowed with the intensity of noon. The flowers drooped their heads and the leaves hung listlessly. Cornelius Jessel, passing out of the back way from the Hall, on his way to the postoffice, had not covered a dozen yards before he paused to mop his brow with his handkerchief. He bore with him the letter in which Guy announced to Hora his intention of returning to town. It was the briefest of notes, disclosing nothing of the intention of the writer. But it was not the only letter which Jessel carried. In the other envelope was the report which the shadow man had penned to the Master. The envelope was stamped and sealed, but Cornelius took it from his pocket and looked at it and frowned. He replaced it in his pocket and proceeded on his way. He did not know whether to post it or not. For the first time since he had undertaken the part of spy upon Guy's actions he had wilfully suppressed an item of information which had come into his possession concerning Guy. It was such an important item of information, too. So important that he had gasped for breath when he realised what the discovery he had made really meant.
On the previous afternoon and evening he had taken advantage of Guy's absence to make a careful examination of his master's property. He had frequently done so before, but without discovering anything of any interest. But on this occasion he was more fortunate. He had long been curious concerning the contents of a little silver-bound box which reposed in a corner of Guy's dressing case. He had oftentimes made discreet attempts to pick the lock but without success, and he dared not venture on forcing it lest by damaging the box he should excite suspicion. He guessed that sooner or later he would get the opportunity he desired for examining the contents of the little casket, and the occasion had arrived at last. Guy had left his keys on the dressing table and one of the bunch fitted the lock.