Beryl watched Madeline's face with great interest while she read, but it revealed nothing to her. Madeline was conscious that Beryl's eyes were upon her, and so held herself resolutely in check. Not for the world would she betray what she felt.
The St. Gaved Express was printed and published mainly in the interests of the landed and moneyed classes. Its politics were those of the people who held the shares. Its comments on local matters were coloured by its political views. Its snobbery was beyond dispute.
Rufus Sterne received scant courtesy at its hands. He had been heard to say that he believed in the government of the people by the people, for the people. That was quite sufficient for the Express. Politically he was a dangerous character—a little Englander and a pro-foreigner.
When it became known that Rufus had failed, that he had been forestalled with his invention, the Express openly rejoiced. Such unpatriotic characters did not deserve to succeed. It hinted that there was a rough and ready justice in the world that dealt out to men the measure of their deserts—which, being interpreted, meant, that to those who had was given, and from those who had not was taken away even what they had.
It further hinted its hope that the dupes of what was little less than a public fraud would do their duty to the public, to themselves, and to the ingenious young gentleman whose exposure was now pretty well complete.
Madeline folded the paper without a word and handed it back to Beryl.
"I should think you feel sorry now that you ever spoke to him," Beryl said, after a long pause.
"There are many things we feel sorry for when it is too late," she answered, quietly, then turned and walked slowly out of the room.
She had not thought much of Rufus for several weeks. She never expected to see him again. He had come into her life for a few months and passed out again, and the sooner she forgot him the better.