"Oh, I can't believe it,—I must not allow myself to even THINK it," cried the girl. "Why, if what Addison says is true, Courtney Thane is not fit to—There must be some mistake, Aunt Nancy. There were two men of the same name. I WILL NOT BELIEVE IT!"
The two tall women stood tense and rigid, side by side, their backs to the fire, gazing straight before them down the lamp-lit room.
"Has Addison Blythe any reason for lying to you, Alix?" asked the elder quietly.
"Of course not," Alix answered impatiently. "There is some mistake, that's all."
"Do you mind telling me what he says?"
"Mr. Thane is coming to see me tonight," said the girl, uneasily. "He may come at any moment now. What time is it?"
"Ten minutes of eight. He never comes before half-past." She waited a moment, and then went on deliberately: "I always had an idea it was because he wanted to be sure Sergeant was in the house and not out in the yard."
Alix closed her eyes for a second or two, as if by doing so it were possible to shut out the same thought that had floated through Mrs. Strong's mind.
"But he need not be afraid of Sergeant now," she said, with a little tremor in her voice. "He will come earlier tonight." The unintentional sarcasm did not escape Mrs. Strong. "Wait till tomorrow, Aunt Nancy. Then I may tell you."
"You are trembling, dear. I wish you would let me make your excuses to him when he comes. Don't see him tonight. Let me tell him—"