“How so? Do you presume to deny that you met Lord Carrol in the grounds to-night?” demanded Mrs. Richards, severely.
“No.”
“You did meet him?”
“Yes.”
“And denounced him as a traitor?”
“Yes. I believe him to be a traitor to truth and honor, and—a coward!”
They were hard, cruel words to be said of Archibald Sherbrooke, whom she had loved so dearly and believed to be so noble and true, and her heart thrilled with keenest pain as she uttered them, but she believed he had basely deceived her.
“Explain yourself,” commanded Mrs. Richards, bridling.
“I shall explain nothing,” Star answered, coldly, yet firmly. “What I said to Lord Carrol to-night was intended for him alone. If he has chosen to betray me, the responsibility rests upon himself, and you can go to him for explanations if you choose.”
“Where did you meet him first—how did you make his acquaintance?” asked Mrs. Richards, longing to get Star’s version of the story.