"If it is nothing, I may surely see it. Harriet, I command you! Show me that note!"
The eyes of Captain Hunsden's daughter inflamed up fierce and bright at sound of that imperious word command.
"And I don't choose to be commanded—not if you were my king as well as my husband. You shall never see it now!"
There was a wood-fire leaping up on the marble hearth.
She flung the note impetuously as she spoke into the midst of the flames. One bright jet of flame, and it was gone.
Husband and wife stood facing each other, he deathly white, she flushed and defiant.
"And this is the woman I loved—the wife I trusted—my bride of one short month."
He had turned to quit the room, but two impetuous arms were around his neck, two impulsive lips covering his face with penitent, imploring kisses.
"Forgive me—forgive me!" Harriet cried. "My dear, my true, my cherished husband! Oh, what a wicked, ungrateful creature I am! What a wretch you must think me! And I can not—I can not—I can not tell you."
She broke out suddenly into a storm of hysterical crying, clinging to his neck.