He took her unresistingly in his arms, and kissed her forehead reverently before turning away, to walk to the window and stand gazing out blindly, till a firm step with loudly creaking boots was heard approaching, when Sir Gordon slowly drew away back into the room.
Then the gate clanged, the bell rang, and a change came over Sir Gordon as Millicent ran to the drawing-room door.
“Not at home, Thisbe, to any one,” she said hastily. “I am particularly engaged.”
She closed the door quietly, and came back into the room to stand there, now flushed, now pale.
Sir Gordon took her hand softly, and raised it to his lips.
“Thank you, my child,” he said tenderly. “It was very kind and thoughtful of you. I could not bear for any one else to see me in my weakness.”
He was smiling sadly in her face, when he noticed her agitation, and at that moment the deep rich tones of Hallam’s voice were heard speaking to Thisbe.
The words were inaudible, but there was no mistaking the tones, and at that moment it was as if the last scale of Sir Gordon’s love blindness had fallen away, and he let fall Millicent’s hand with a half-frightened look.
“Millicent, my child!” he cried in a sharp whisper. “No, no! Tell me it isn’t that!”
She raised her eyes to his, looking pale, and shrinking from him as if guilty of some sin, and he flushed with anger as he caught her by the wrist.