"Tell her," he said, in a hoarse whisper. "What did you tell her about me?"
"Only that we played together when we were children, and lived next door to each other."
"Was that all?" he said.
"Yes, every word," I answered. "You surely did not think, Claude—"
"Oh no," he said, "of course not, only it's more comfortable to know. All right, May," he added, carelessly, "we will let bygones be bygones now."
And then he sat down to the piano and played a merry air.
I stood and looked out of the window, and wondered at the shallowness of his heart. And I felt, as I had never felt before, that I had not made a bad choice when I chose Christ's love and gave up Claude's.
In a few minutes the others came down, and we had breakfast; and whilst we were at breakfast, Ambrose came in with the letter-bag, which he solemnly laid before Sir William, as was his daily custom. Sir William took a key from his watch-chain and unlocked the bag, and then proceeded to distribute the letters.
"None for you this morning, Miss Alice," he said, laughing. "Which would you choose: to have your young man here to talk to you, or to get a letter from him? None for you, Miss Lindsay, not a single one; six for me, and one for Mr. Ellis—that's all!"
Claude took his letter, opened it, and glanced hastily through it. The contents did not seem to be of the most agreeable nature, for he looked very annoyed as he read it, and then crushed it up impatiently, and thrust it into his pocket.