“You do not know what you are saying, Sir Mark, or I would resent your words. Mrs Barron, I will come back directly I obtain tidings of my poor friend. You know him better than to think ill of him.”
“Yes, yes,” cried Myra, speaking firmly now, but in a low, hurried murmur. “But stop, Mr Guest; stop!”
He turned sharply, for he was already at the door.
“Wait for me—only a few minutes. Edie—quick; help.”
Her cousin flew to her side.
“Myra!” cried the admiral fiercely; “what are you going to do?”
“Change my dress,” she said with unnatural calmness. “Go to him.”
“What?”
“Where should I be but at his side?”
“Impossible, girl! You shall not degrade yourself like this!” cried the admiral; and Miss Jerrold caught her niece’s hands.