Mildred rushed to the davenport, filled in a telegraph-form, and brought it to Hilda to read.
"There, is that right?" she exclaimed. "Put your name to it if you are satisfied."
Hilda dashed the tears, which were still blinding her eyes, away.
"Yes, yes," she exclaimed, "that will do. Take it at once, this moment, before—before I have time to change my mind."
Mildred had written, "Tell Judy to expect me at ten to-night." Hilda added her name, and Mildred prepared to leave the room.
"Good-by, Hilda," she said. "I won't come back, for you will need all your time to pack, and to leave things in order for your Jasper. Good-by, dear. Of course, you could not think of changing your mind, it would be wicked, cruel; yes, it would be terribly cruel. Good-by, Hilda, good-by."
Mildred seated herself in the victoria and desired her coachman to drive to the nearest telegraph-office.
"I have made a discovery," she said, under her breath. "Jasper Quentyns was not the prince; no, my prince has not yet shown his shining face above the horizon. Doubtless he will never come; but better that than to think he has arrived and wake to find him common clay. Hilda is absolutely afraid of her husband. No, Hilda, I would not be in your shoes for a good deal."