Her anxious surmises were the suspicions that haunted a guilty mind, for she had no just reason to believe that he would connect her with the mystery at all.
She was perplexed, disconcerted, plunged into an agony of mind, as she pursued this train of reasoning. Still she saw the imperious necessity of appearing calm, collected, and full of wonder only, to the extent she would have been had she had no further share in the event than her sister Margaret.
By an effort of her will, she knew she could achieve this much, and she resolved to do it.
As she formed the resolution, the door opened, and Lester Vane entered. He was pale; there was a slight wound on his forehead, strapped up, but otherwise he was as self-possessed, and had the same cold smile playing upon his lips as when first he entered the sitting-room in the earlier part of the day.
A thrill of pain ran through the frame of Helen as she felt his large, dark eye settle upon her.
Then a sudden sense of her danger roused her to exertion, and she forced down all outward sign of the conflict going on within her breast.
She turned her glittering eyes slowly but full upon Lester Vane’s. Met him on his own battle-field, and drove him back, for her gaze was so firm and unwavering, that he turned his eyes, after a searching glance at her, upon the ground.
All crowded round him save Evangeline, who, as usual, sat quietly and unobtrusively in a retired part of the room—if there was, in that brilliantly lighted apartment, such a spot.
Helen was among the first of those who called upon Lester Vane to explain the remarkable affair which had had so unpleasant a termination for him.
Her inquiries were dictated by the most intense desire to ascertain if her suspicions were correct, but her acting was a masterpiece; it had the air of a very natural curiosity only.