By a glance that was exchanged between them they tacitly quitted the room when breakfast was over, and passed together—he following with undisguised reluctance—into the garden, through a window which opened like a folding-door on the back terrace of the mansion.
'What is the meaning of this sudden departure, Jerry?' she asked, when they reached a part of the garden near the very bower Desmond had referred to. 'Do you mean it?'
'I do.'
'How strange you are in your manner, Jerry! Look at me! why, you are quite pale!'
He dared not tell her the cause at first; he felt ashamed of his own folly—ashamed of her and of the accusation he had to make.
'I was in the rhododendron walk last night. You did not come, as you promised.'
'I—I could not,' said she, her pallor increasing, as she cast down her eyes.
'My heart was wrung by your absence, Ida; but still more wrung—ay, tortured nigh unto death—by the cause!'
'Cause?' said she, trembling.
'Yes,' he replied, sharply and bitterly.