"
"It shall end at once," she replied. "It is to be war between us, Sir
Edgar--war to the knife!"
"There is no need for war," I said, wearily. "Let us forget all about
it. There will be no need for you to do anything romantic, Coralie.
Stay on at Crown Anstey, and make yourself happy with Clare."
"Yes," she replied, with that strange smile, "I shall remain at Crown
Anstey--I have no thought of going away."
She turned as though she would quit the room. I went up to her.
"Good night, Coralie. Shake hands, and let us part friends."
"When I touch your hand again, Sir Edgar, it will be under very
different circumstances. Good night."
She swept from the room with the dignity of an outraged queen, leaving
me unhappy, bewildered and anxious.
I had the most chivalrous love and devotion for all womankind, and I
must confess to feeling most dreadfully shocked. It seemed almost
unheard of.
Then I tried to forget it--the passionate words, the pale, tearful
beauty of that wonderful face. Strange that Clare's conviction should so
soon be realized. What of that nervous conviction she had that evil
would come of this fair woman's love? What if that were realized, too?
I sat late that night, dreaming not only of the pure, sweet girl I had
won, but of the woman whose burning tears had fallen on my hands.
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