Old Bernard Dane went straight over to the buffet and poured a wine-glassful of brandy from a cut-glass decanter which stood there. He held it to Keith's lips.
"Drink that, my boy," he said, in a kindly tone. "You look done up. Now come to the library. I am at your service."
As the door of the breakfast-room closed behind the two, Serena's eyes met her mother's gaze, and a smile of triumph coiled her thin lips.
"He leaves us out of the private conference," she said in a cold, metallic voice, "and the foolish boy does not dream that we know more about this mysterious flitting than he does. Mamma, you look surprised. Why, did you not know that when I read that letter aloud to you last night, Beatrix Dane was in the next room and heard every word? It is her sleeping-room, and she was there, and heard every word that I read. I meant that she should."
"Serena!"
Even Mrs. Lynne was horrified at this heartless announcement.
"It is true, mamma—as true as gospel!" she returned, harshly. "It was the best way to let her know; and it is quite time that she should know. I have been sharp and shrewd, for I have nipped this affair between her and Keith in the bud. The day will come when Keith will be grateful to me that he found out everything before it was too late. He is awfully cut up now, but he is a man, and men get over such things in the course of time—some of them in an exceedingly short time—and then he will come back to me—back to the woman who has sympathized with him through all his sorrows. One thing troubles me, however. I would like to know what she wrote him, how much she has told him, and all about it. I must know!"
An hour later Serena encountered Keith Kenyon in the entrance hall. At sight of his face she fell back with a cry of horror. It was awfully ghastly, white, and drawn and convulsed with suffering; his eyes were dark and dilated; he shook like a decrepit old man.
"Oh, Keith!" she cried, pausing and laying her hand on his arm, "what, in Heaven's name, is the matter? Are you grieving over poor Beatrix? Well, she has gone away, and it was all that she could do, poor child! One can not help pitying her from the depths of one's heart. Tell me, Keith, have you heard all? Has Mr. Dane told you all the awful truth concerning poor Beatrix?"
Keith bowed his head slowly, and a look of heart-break crept into his eyes.