“I can’t bear you to go.” “But I must,” she murmured.
“I suppose you understand,” said Eirene with energy, “that if I went back to Scythia I should be replaced in my old position, and be rich and received at Court?”
“Yes, I know, and I can only offer you a country life in England—for certain. Anything else is mere possibility.”
“Do you imagine I am thinking of that? I want to be sure you do not say this out of pity.”
“But I do. I want you to take pity on me.”
Sunshine succeeded momentary dismay on Eirene’s face.
“You know,” she said softly, “there was a condition to be fulfilled before I could be received at Court again?”
“That you should marry some one, I suppose? Who is the brute?”
“Oh no, they would not say that in words. The condition was that I should write to ask forgiveness, and say I was sorry for running away.”
“Well, and did you do it?”