'And,' she said, slowly, 'you persuaded him not to come.'
Mrs. Ormonde paused before replying.
'Thyrza, is all your faith in me at an end? Cannot I speak to you like I used to, and be sure that you trust my kindness to you, that you trust my love?'
'Your love?' Thyrza repeated, more coldly than she had spoken yet. 'And you persuaded him not to come to me.'
'It is true, I did.'
Mrs. Ormonde had never spoken to any one with a feeling of humiliation like this which made her bend her head. Thyrza still looked at her, but no longer with hostility. She gazed with wonder, with doubt.
'Why did you do that to me, Mrs. Ormonde?'
There was heart-breaking pathos in the simple words. Tears rushed to the listener's eyes.
'My child, if I had known the truth, I should have said not a word to prevent his going. I did not know that you still loved him, hard as it is for you to believe that. I was deceived by your face. I have watched you month after month, and, as I knew nothing of your reason for hope, I thought you had found comfort in other things. Cannot you believe me, Thyrza?'
'And you told him that?'