"Have I in any way offended you, dear Ethel?"
Then she turned her eyes on his face. They were angry and accusing, and her voice trembled with anger as she cried:
"Why did you leave Washington without informing me? Surely it was my right to know!"
"Surely, Ethel, but I hope that no blame can attach to me for not seeing you first, as a telegram summoned me in haste to your brother, and in order to catch the first train here I had to leave without sending you a line. But I wrote you yesterday, and had you not left Washington so soon this morning you would have received it ere this. I trust this explanation will acquit me in your eyes of all dereliction from duty."
His voice was cold, almost contemptuous, and his resentment of anger only stung the haughty beauty to further insolence.
"Your duty to me ranked before your courtesy to Earle," she replied perversely.
"When may I hope you will forgive me this time if I promise to wear my chains more slavishly in future?" he asked, with delicate sarcasm that stung deeply.
"You call your betrothal to me a chain! Perhaps you would like to be free of your fetters!" flashed the girl.