"Be quiet, mother;" said Cecil sternly. "My career is not the present question--we must think of our honor and of her happiness," and leaning over the fragile and trembling form of his sister, he said imploringly:
"Tell me, Zini, exactly what happened."
She had freed herself from his clasp and was standing before him with her arms folded across--rigid though tremulous--and her voice was cold and monotonous as she obeyed him and gave with naïve exactitude her short and simple report, blushing as she spoke. When she had ended Cecil drew a deep breath.
"And since that you have heard nothing of Sempaly?" he asked.
"The next morning he sent me a note."
"Zinka, do not be angry with me ... show me that note."
She left the room and soon returned with the letter which she handed to Sterzl. He read it through with great gravity and marked attention then knitting his brows he slowly folded it up and turned it over.
"And you answered him?" he asked.
"Yes."
"And what did you say?"