Leola’s wistful eyes looked at her with a mute question, and she answered, gently:
“You’re thinking of Mr. Chester Olyphant, I know, dearie, and I had better tell you and get it off your mind. He has gone away.”
“Gone away!” Leola repeated, trembling, her lips white, her eyes somber with misery.
“Yes, gone away, and a good riddance, I say, for how could he face you again after all that has happened? He has nearly broken Miss Stirling’s heart as well as yours, and she vows she will never speak to him again for your sake! Only think of the great monster, engaged to her, and coming off down here to make love to you, because you were so pretty and so innocent. There was not a word he could say in his own defence, nothing but to sneak away like a hound beaten for stealing! Yes, he is gone, and I hope that is the last of him!”
Leola’s white, trembling hands hid her face, but presently she spoke wearily through her fingers:
“I have just one favor to ask you, dear Miss Tuttle. Never mention his name to me again, so that I may find it easier to forget.”
Alas, would she find oblivion of pain so easily?
“When vain desire at last and vain regret
Go hand in hand to death, and all is vain,
What shall assuage the unforgotten pain