'What matters it? If she is so perfidious, let her go. But I have been too long here playing the moonstruck fool.'
Yet with a pitiful desperation he clung to the faint hope that ere he left, some explanation, other than he had received, might be given him; that another interview might pass between them which would change the present gloomy aspect of their affairs, and place them even on their former vague and unsatisfactory basis. But Major Desmond had taken his departure during the interview in the garden; thus Vane had no opportunity of recurring to what he had related overnight in the garden; and Ida remained studiously aloof, sequestered in her own room, and he saw no more till the moment of his departure, and even then not a word passed between them.
Clare Collingwood heard with genuine concern the announcement of Vane's sudden departure that day; he was the sole link between her and Trevor Chute, and the medium through which she heard of all the wanderer's movements.
It was long past mid-day ere he could leave the Court, and as he passed through the hall he saw the ladies taking their afternoon tea in the morning room, and amid that brilliant group, with their shining silks and rich laces, their perfumed hair and glittering ornaments, he saw only the bright Aurora tresses and sombre dress of Ida, her jet ear-rings and necklet contrasting so powerfully with the paleness of her blonde beauty—the wondrous whiteness of her skin. She was smiling lightly now at Violet, who was coquetting with, or quizzing, old Colonel Rakes.
Why should not Ida smile when the eyes of 'Society' were upon her?
It fretted Vane, however, that she should be doing so on the eve of his departure, and added fuel to the fire that consumed him. He was just in the humour to quarrel with trifles. He simply bade her adieu as he did all the rest, and bowed himself out; but he could not resist making some explanation to Clare, who followed him to the porch, and whose expressive eyes seemed to ask it, for she had detected in a moment that something unusual had passed between him and Ida.
She heard him with pain and bewilderment.
'All this must, and shall, be fully explained,' said Clare, with her dark eyes swimming in tears.
'I doubt it.'
'Doubt not!' said she, firmly, 'and, dear Jerry, promise me that you will forget your quarrel with Ida, and visit us again at Christmas; papa and—and Lady Evelyn will be home long before that. Do you promise?'