"The bride—Miss Maud," is the startling reply.
"Where has she gone? What for?" Reine demands, inelegantly, in the shock of her great surprise.
"To marry her old lover, Mr. Clyde, that she loved, and she couldn't love Mr. Charteris, miss," said the house-maid, succinctly.
There is a moment's silence. Reine drops back into a chair, dazed with the suddenness of the news.
"You see she left a little note to her uncle, miss, to let him know where she'd gone, and the old gentleman's that mad, miss, he up and swore bad enough to lift the roof off!"
There is a quick, startling rap at the door. Mary runs to open it in a hurry, and Reine glances up with dark, anxious eyes.
The next instant she starts to her feet with a smothered cry.
On the threshold stands Vane Charteris, pale as death itself, but superbly handsome in the customary suit of solemn black that makes gentlemen appear like mourners on all festive occasions.