"That is precisely what I should like to know."
"I came out here that I might be alone before our meeting. I heard the sound of voices, and I thought that one of them was yours--I could not believe it. I listened. I heard you talking to that woman. I saw her kiss you. Oh, Cecil! Cecil! my heart is broken!"
She tottered forward, all but falling into Hubert's arms. He tried to soothe her. Sotto voce he told himself that Cecil had more romance in his nature than he had given him credit for. His complications in the feminine line appeared to be worthy of the farces at the Palais Royal. In the midst of her emotion, the young lady in his arms continued to address him.
"Why--did you--tell me--you were coming--by one train--when--all the time--you must have meant--to come by another. I--have your letter here----"
From the bosom of her dress she drew an envelope. Hubert made a dash at it.
"My letter? Permit me for an instant!"
With scant ceremony he took it from her hand. He glanced at the address--recognising Cecil's well-known writing.
"Miss--Miss Danvers! Are you--are you--Miss Danvers?"
The girl shrank from him. Her tears were dried. Her face grew white. "Cecil!" she exclaimed.
"Forgive me if my question seems a curious one, but--are you Miss Danvers?"