Part 47 (1/2)

To his surprise, the girl turned upon him fiercely. ”Do not torture Bernie so,” she cried. ”There are reasons why he cannot marry. I love him, he adores me; that is enough.” Two tears gathered and stole down her smooth cheeks. ”You are cruel to hurt him so, M'sieu.”

”Bernie, you're a coward!” Blake said, with some degree of feeling, but the girl flew once more to her lover's defense.

”Coward, indeed! His bravery is unbelievable. Does he not risk his life for this miserable Committee of yours? He has the courage of a thousand lions.”

”I admire your loyalty--and of course it's really not my affair, although--Why don't you go out to the park where the birds are singing, and talk it all over? Those birds are always glad to welcome lovers. Meanwhile I'll look into the Poggi matter.”

Bernie was glad enough to end the scene, and he arose with alacrity; but his face was very red and he avoided the eye of his friend. As for Miss Delord, now that her doubts were quelled, she was as sparkling and as cheerful as an April morning.

If Bernie Dreux supposed that his troubles for the day had ended with that stormy scene in the cafe, he was greatly mistaken. He had promised Felicite that he would fly to her with the coming of dusk, and that neither the claims of duty nor of family should keep him from her side. But that evening Myra Nell seized upon him as he was cautiously tiptoeing past her door on his way out. The tone of her greeting gave him an unpleasant start.

”I want to talk with you, young man,” she said.

Now n.o.body, save Myra Nell, ever a.s.sumed the poetic license of calling Bernie ”young man,” and even she did so only upon momentous occasions.

A quick glance at her face confirmed his premonition of an uncomfortable half-hour.

”I haven't a cent, really,” he said, desperately.

”This isn't about money.” She was very grave. ”It is something far more serious.”

”Then what can it be?” he inquired, in a tone of mild surprise.

But she deigned no explanation until she had led him into the library, waved him imperiously to a seat upon the hair-cloth sofa, and composed herself on a chair facing him. Reflecting that he was already late for his appointment, he wriggled uncomfortably under her gaze.

”Well?” she said, after a pause. Something in her bearing caused his spirits to continue their downward course. Her brow was furrowed with a somber portent.

”Yes'm,” he said, nervously, quite like a small schoolboy whose eyes are fixed upon the suns.h.i.+ne outside.

”I've heard the truth.”

”Yes'm,” he repeated, vaguely.

”Needless to say I'm crushed,”

Bernie slowly whitened as the meaning of his sister's words sank in.

He seemed to melt, to settle together, and his eyes filled with a strange, hunted expression.

”What are you talking about?” he demanded, thickly.

”You know, very well.”

”Do I?”

She nodded her head.

”This is the first disgrace which has ever fallen upon us, and I'm heartbroken.”

”I don't understand,” he protested, in a voice so faint she could scarcely hear him. But his pallor increased; he sat upon the edge of the couch, clutching it nervously as if it had begun to move under him. He really felt dizzy. Myra Nell had a bottle of smelling-salts in her room, and he thought of asking her to fetch it.

”Even yet I can't believe it of you,” she continued. ”The idea that you, my protector, the one man upon whom I've always looked with reverence and respect; you, my sole remaining relative.... The idea that you should be entangled in a miserable intrigue.... Why, it's appalling!” Her lips quivered, tears welled into her eyes, seeing which the little man felt himself strangling.