She spoke lightly, for she feared to alarm the patient by any appearance of fear on her part. She knew how physical disease may be augmented by mental agitation. Her tone, therefore, was one of assumed carelessness.
To-night Douglas Dale's mind was peculiarly sensitive to every impression. Something in that assumed tone struck strangely upon his ear. For the first time since he had known her, the voice of the woman he loved, seemed to him to have a false sound in its clear, ringing tones.
An icy terror suddenly took possession of his mind.
What if this woman—this woman, whom he loved with such intense affection—what if she were something other than she seemed! What if her heart had never been his—her love never withdrawn from the reprobate upon whom she had once bestowed it! What if her tender glances, her affectionate words, her graceful, caressing manner, were all a comedy, of which he was the dupe! What if—
"I am the victim of treachery," he thought to himself; "but the traitor cannot be here. Oh, no, no! let me find the traitor anywhere rather than here."
Paulina watched her lover as he sat with his eyes fixed on the ground, absorbed in gloomy meditation.
Presently he looked up suddenly, and addressed her.
"I am going on a journey, Paulina, on business," he said; "business, which I can only transact myself. I shall, therefore, be compelled to be absent from you for a week; it may be even more. Perhaps we shall never meet again. Will that be very distressing to you?"
"Douglas," exclaimed Paulina, "how strangely you speak to me to-night!
If this is a jest, it is a very cruel one."
"It is no jest, Paulina," answered her lover. "Life is very precarious, and within the last week I have learnt to consider my existence in imminent peril."