“What do you mean?”
“You won’t let Romayne discover that I have told you about the duel?”
“Certainly not. You shall see my letter before I send it to be forwarded.”
Tranquilized so far, Lady Loring bethought herself next of Major Hynd. “Can we tell him what you have done?” her ladyship asked.
“Of course we can tell him,” Stella replied. “I shall conceal nothing from Lord Loring, and I shall beg your good husband to write to the Major. He need only say that I have made the necessary inquiries, after being informed of the circumstances by you, and that I have communicated the favorable result to Mr. Romayne.”
“It’s easy enough to write the letter, my dear. But it’s not so easy to say what Major Hynd may think of you.”
“Does it matter to me what Major Hynd thinks?”
Lady Loring looked at Stella with a malicious smile. “Are you equally indifferent,” she said, “to what Romayne’s opinion of your conduct may be?”
Stella’s color rose. “Try to be serious, Adelaide, when you speak to me of Romayne,” she answered, gravely. “His good opinion of me is the breath of my life.”
An hour later, the important letter to Romayne was written. Stella scrupulously informed him of all that had happened—with two necessary omissions. In the first place, nothing was said of the widow’s reference to her son’s death, and of the effect produced by it on his younger brother. The boy was simply described as being of weak intellect, and as requiring to be kept under competent control. In the second place, Romayne was left to infer that ordinary motives of benevolence were the only motives, on his part, known to Miss Eyrecourt.