His eyes met hers, and flashed their delight, as the second word seemed to clinch others which she had spoken that night.
“This is all a secret. Even uncle must not know yet till we have had a long talk with aunt. She can be quite like a lawyer in giving advice.”
“But, Edie!”
“No, no; we can have no hesitation. What I say is right. I’m very fond of Malcolm Stratton; and, if he has done this dreadful thing, his punishment must not come through us.”
“You’re a little Queen of Sheba,” he whispered passionately.
“Hush! That’s not behaving like Solomon. Be wise, please. O Myra, Myra! Stop; there are some salts on the chimney-piece in the front room. No, no; stay! She is coming to.”
For Myra turned her head slightly on one side, and muttered a few incoherent words in a low, weary tone; and at last opened her eyes to let them rest on Guest’s face as he knelt by her.
There was no recognition for a few moments, as she lay back, gazing dreamily at him. Then thought resumed its power in her brain, and her face was convulsed by a spasm.
Starting up, she caught his arm.
“Is it all true?” she cried, in a low, husky whisper.