At that instant, without warning, the door opened, and Muriel, bright and happy, burst into the room, bearing an armful of flowers. Next second, on recognising my visitor, her countenance changed, and she bowed stiffly to him, without offering her hand. Quick to notice this, I at once demanded an explanation, for the mystery had now driven me to desperation.
“There is some secret in your previous acquaintance with Muriel,” I said, addressing Yelverton boldly. “Tell me what it is.”
“Our acquaintance!” he faltered, while she drew back open-mouthed in alarm. The pair exchanged glances, and I saw that between them was some understanding. “What makes you suggest that?” he asked, with a forced laugh.
“You were acquainted before I introduced you the other day!” I cried, fiercely. “You can’t deny that!”
“I have not denied it,” he responded calmly. “It is quite true that I knew Miss Moore before our formal introduction.”
“Then why did you not admit it?” I demanded, a feeling of jealousy rising within me.
“Simply because I had no desire to excite any suspicion in your mind, Clifton. That’s all.”
“Rubbish!” I ejaculated. “There’s some mystery behind all this. Why may I not know?”
The Vicar of St. Peter’s glanced inquiringly at Muriel, but finding no look of permission in her countenance, preserved a silence, which in a moment grew irksome.
Suddenly, however, Muriel, who stood near me, pale and excited, turned, and facing me, said—