"If that is the case," she answered, sadly, "I should be glad to retire. I am very tired, and feel the shock of my accident painfully."
The gentlemen retired, and a maid came in and showed Mrs. Vance to a sleeping apartment. She locked the door, and threw herself wearily across the bed. She was laboring under some strong excitement. No sleep refreshed her burning eyelids that night. At daylight the little maid knocked at the door with a tempting breakfast arranged on a tray.
"The sleigh has arrived, and is waiting until you have your breakfast," said she, politely.
Mrs. Vance bathed her face and hands, re-arranged her disordered hair, and after doing full justice to the tray of viands, descended to Lance, who impatiently waited her coming.
He helped her into the sleigh, took up the reins and set off homeward.
"I hope you slept well?" he remarked, to break the awkward silence.
She turned her dark eyes up to meet his questioning glance. He saw with surprise they were hollow, languid and sleepless, while a glance of ineffable anguish shone upon him.
"Could I sleep well, do you think?" she inquired, in a voice full of passionate reproach. "Could I sleep at all, knowing the dreadful fate which awaits me?"
"I fail to understand you," said he, in a voice of perplexity.
"You cannot be so blind, Lance. You are only playing with me," she murmured, sadly.