“Yes,” she said, watching him with cruel eyes. “That, however, is not the worst.” She struggled with rising passion before she resumed: “I believe——”
Prescott raised his hand commandingly.
“Stop! I’m going away to find your brother.”
“One can understand your going away!” she flung back at him as she passed on down the hall.
Prescott drove home at a reckless pace. Facing the situation boldly, he recognized that the outlook was very dark.
CHAPTER XII
PRESCOTT’S FLIGHT
Two days after the arrival of the Colstons, Gertrude Jernyngham walked down the trail from the Leslie homestead in a very bitter mood. During the last few weeks her cold nature had kindled into sudden warmth; love had most unexpectedly crept into her heart. At first she had struggled against and been ashamed of it, for its object was a man beneath her in rank and of widely different mode of thought; but by degrees the judgment she had hitherto exercised had given place to passion. After the narrow, conventional life she had led, there was a strange exhilaration and excitement in yielding to her impulses; the virility of Prescott’s character and his physical perfection stirred her. She desired him and had boldly used such charms as she possessed in his subjugation. Misled by his gentleness, she imagined him responsive, and then Muriel had appeared on the scene and the truth was plain to her when she saw his face light up at sight of the girl. She had read warm love in his eager glance.