"I shall tell you," exclaims she, in a higher tone, her pale-blue eyes flashing. "Two hours ago my own maid received a note from Paul Rodney's man directed to your wife. When she read it she dressed herself and went from this house in the direction of the wood. If you cannot draw your own conclusions from these two facts, you must be duller or more obstinate than I give you credit for.",
"Thank you," murmurs he, gratefully. There is evidently comfort in the thought. Then after a moment or two he goes on again, as though following out a pleasant idea: "Some day, perhaps, that vault will hold you too; and there at least we shall meet again, and be side by side.",
She leans back in her chair, and brings her fingers together, clasping them so closely that her very nails grow white. Her thin nostrils dilate a little, and her breath comes quickly, but no angry word escapes her. How can her lips give utterance to a speech that may wound the mother of the man she loves!.
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