"Here is a letter for you, Ida," said Eugene, handing her a square white envelope.
One glance at it, and her soul seemed to turn sick within her. It was from Royal Ainsley!
What had he to say to her? When he left her he promised that she should never see his face again, that he would never cross her path.
What did this communication mean?
Breakfast was over at last, and she hastened to the morning-room, where she could read her letter without being observed.
"My little Wife.—I am running in hard luck after all. I invested all the money you were so generous as to give me, and lost every cent of it. An open confession is good for the soul. Having told you the truth, I feel better. I will need just the same amount of money to float me, and you must raise it for me somehow. I use the word must to duly impress it upon you. I will be at the same place where I met you last, on the evening of the fourteenth. That will be just ten days from the time you receive this letter. Do not fail me, Ida, or I might be tempted to wreak vengeance upon my amiable cousin, fascinating Eugene.
"Yours in haste, and with much love,
"Royal."
She flung the letter from her as though it were a scorpion. A look of terror came over her face, her head throbbed, and her brain whirled. Oh, Heaven! the torture of it!
What if he kept this up? It would not be long before she would be driven to madness.
"My little wife!" How the words galled her; they almost seemed to take her life away.