Before he could open his lips, or put out a hand to detain her, she had rushed from the room.
Clarence Vaughan gazed after the flying form in speechless grief and amazement. Then flinging himself into a chair, he bowed his head upon his hands in sorrowful meditation. Sitting thus he did not perceive the approach of some one, who laid a hand lightly upon his bowed head, murmuring: "Blind! blind! blind!"
Starting up, he saw the face of Mrs. Ralston bending toward him and wearing an expression of mingled compassion and amusement.
"Forgive me," she said, her countenance resuming its usual gravity. "I was in the library, and heard all. I listened willfully, too, for I have been observing you and Claire, and I want to help you."
Clarence dropped disconsolately back in his chair. "If you have heard all," he said, "you know that it is useless to try to help me."
Mrs. Ralston laughed outright. "If you were not blind you would not need my help," she said. "As it is, you do."
"Mrs. Ralston, what do you mean?"
"I mean that your battle is half won. If you will explain to me one half her words, I will explain to you the other half."
"You are laughing at me," he said, wearily. "What can you explain?"
"That ridiculous girl commanded you to bestow your love upon some more worthy object; some one who was living for others; or some such words. Whom did she mean, may I ask?"