“Removed, papa? Alas, alas!” moaned the girl, who could see in the future no surcease of sorrow.
She started when her father laughed aloud:
“My dearest, how little faith you had in your lover, to believe all that little cat told you out of spite!”
“Oh, papa, you do not understand. Indeed, he was her lover. Jessie spoke the truth. He—only—sought—to amuse himself with me. I—I—know that it is true, for—I—saw—her—in—his arms!”
He could hardly bear the anguish in the great, dark eyes, the shame, the self-pity in the quivering voice: he must tell her the truth; he could not see her suffer any more, poor, proud Leola!
So he answered, quickly:
“You saw her spring to his arms, my dear; and if you had not fainted at the sight, you would have seen her the next moment repulsed with scorn by the man who despised the shallow little deceiver.”
A wild cry of incredulous hope shrilled over her lips, and his words came like a star in the night of her despair.
He continued, tenderly:
“You were tricked and deceived, my poor Leola, by two designing women. Granted that Chester Olyphant had once been engaged to marry Jessie Stirling, he had found her out and broken with her before he came to the mountains to seek you. The girl lied to you, deceived you wickedly, scheming to separate you and win him back herself. You fainted, and then Fate stepped in and aided Miss Stirling to keep you deceived for a whole year, but that was all, for he continued to repulse all her efforts to get him back. His only fault toward you, darling, was his hiding his name and position, in the natural, romantic desire to be loved for himself alone!”