“Ah, Don!” she broke off, turning towards him, “you should not have asked me to postpone the announcement of our marriage on the flimsy excuse that you found on your arrival only unmarried officers were to be the President’s aides. You should have given me your full confidence then.”
“I was wrong,” admitted Gordon gravely. “But you do not know the tangle I found myself in. Go on, dearest.”
“I was cruelly hurt,” said Beatrice, slowly; “though I tried to convince myself that everything you did was for the best. And so things drifted until the evening of the third.” She stopped and drew a long breath.
“As I came downstairs dressed for the Bachelors’ that night, I was surprised when Mrs. Trevor called me into the library. While outwardly civil, we usually saw as little of each other as possible. She asked me if it was true that I had definitely refused Mr. Clark, and when I said it was, she flew into a terrible rage. When her anger had spent itself, she begged and implored me to change my mind and marry him, saying that I would bitterly rue the day if I did not.
“I laughed the idea to scorn; and told her I was pledged to another, better man. ‘His name?’ she asked. ‘Donald Gordon,’ I replied. Without a word she leaned over and took out several notes from the drawer of her secretary, saying: ‘I am afraid your chevalier—sans peur et sans reproche—is but human. Here is a letter from him to me; read it.’
“Startled, my eyes fell on the handwriting I knew so well, and I read the first few lines—words of endearment and love were written there, Donald—” A fierce exclamation broke from him, and he started to interrupt. “Wait,” she said. “Your turn will come later. To go back: for a moment the room swam round me, and the black demons of jealousy and despair conquered. Remember, I thought I already had cause to doubt you. Mrs. Trevor’s beauty had proved irresistible to others; why not to you? But I was determined not to give in; so I told her I did not believe her, and she laughed, oh, a laugh of pure deviltry. At least, it seemed so to me. She handed me another note from you, which said that you would be there that night, and would rap on the door for her to admit you.
“It was damning evidence, and my hope and faith crumbled away. In a few passionate words I renounced you; and then, tearing off your signet ring, which I always carried concealed since our wedding, I gave it to her and bade her return it to you.
“As I started to leave the room, she said: ‘I will stop urging your marriage to Alfred Clark on one condition.’
“‘And that is?’ I asked.
“‘That you give me your mother’s pearls.’