Glynne shook her head, and, putting one arm round his neck, kissed the old man fondly.
“Hush, dear,” she said; “you forget. I cannot—I will not hear another word. I am determined that I will hold to my promise.”
“But, Glynne, my child,” cried the major appealingly.
“It is too late—it is too late,” responded Glynne. “And now, uncle, if you love me, spare me further suffering.”
He waited for a few minutes, and resumed the attack, but without effect; and just as he was gazing despairingly in his niece’s face Sir John entered, looking inquiringly at both, when Glynne went smilingly to his side at once, and laid her hands upon his breast.
“Dear father,” she said tenderly, “let my last few hours at home be undisturbed by pain.”
“My darling,” said Sir John softly, “you are mistress here. Jem, old fellow, you have spoken.”
“Delivered my charge, Jack, and failed. I retire broken from the field.”
Glynne held out her hand to him, and when he took it she leaned towards him to kiss his lips.
About an hour later Mason the maid learned a secret which she afterwards confided to her intimates in the servants’ hall.