"What does he say? When is he coming?" she cried.
For answer Hora read the letter aloud.
"I am returning to town to-morrow, after spending a fortnight with Captain Marven, and I have something important to tell you. I am afraid you won't like what I have to say, but I cannot help myself, even if it should lead to a parting of our ways. Yes, I fear it has come to that. I will come in to-morrow after dinner, if you will be at home."
That was all. Hora's voice became harsh as he read, and as he finished he crumbled the letter in his hand, and threw it aside.
"A parting of the ways. It has come to that, has it?" he muttered. His face grew dark and his eyes flashed dangerously. "A parting of the ways, and all for the sake of a milk-and-water country girl. What do you say to that, Myra?"
He turned suddenly upon his companion. He was almost alarmed at what he saw. Her face was deathlike in its pallor, and in her pale face her dark eyes flashed with unnatural brightness. She reeled slightly and grasped with both hands at a table to steady herself. He did not press the question. He led her to a chair, turned swiftly to a tantalus, and, pouring brandy into a glass, held it to her lips.
"You fool," he said, and his tone was kindly, though his words were rough. "You fool, to set such store by any piece of mere frail humanity. Drink this."
Myra obeyed the command. Gradually the colour came back to her cheeks. She sat up, but her mouth drooped at the corners, there was despair in her eyes.
"I could not help but give him my love," she said protestingly, "and he will have none of it."
Hora turned aside, and paced the room irresolutely. He seated himself at a writing-table, scribbled rapidly, and, when he had finished, brought the note over to Myra. She read it listlessly.