"Forever!" The word, never dwelt upon before, acquires a strange, terrible meaning in her thoughts. She realizes, with a gasp of terror, what Maud's lover really is to her. Though she has gibed him, teased him, pitilessly derided him, she has given him her whole, foolish, girlish heart. She flushes hotly with a passionate shame.
"I love him—when he will be Maud's husband in less than an hour!" she cries to herself. "For shame, Reine Langton. Shake off this disgraceful weakness, and be your own brave self again."
There is a tap at the door, unheeded and unheard in her preoccupation.
It opens, and the house-maid enters, flurried and excited.
Reine starts up in a panic and looks at the clock.
"Oh, dear, it is past the time," she cries. "How could I be so careless? Are they all waiting for me, Mary?"
"No, Miss Langton—leastways I don't think they need you."
"Not need me? What do you mean? Isn't the bride dressed yet?"
"No, miss—yes, miss—that is, I don't quite know. She's run away," the girl stammers, blankly.
"Who has run away?" Reine demands, sharply.