"Yes," said her mother; "the infamous----" The girl tried to stifle with her hand upon her mother's lips the words, but Mrs. Varney shook off her hand. "The spy, the traitor," she added witheringly.
"No, no!" cried the girl, but as she spoke, conviction seemed to come to her. Why was it that her faith was not more substantially based and enduring? she asked herself. "Mamma," she wailed, "it can't be." She buried her face in her hands for a moment and then tore them away and confronted her mother boldly. "Won't you leave me alone for a little while, mamma?" she asked plaintively. "I must get----"
"I will go to Howard; I will be back in a short time, my dear," said her mother, gently laying her hand on her daughter's bent head.
Left alone, the girl took the commission from her belt, opened it, smoothed it out, and read it through, as if bewildered and uncomprehending. She folded it up again, and walked slowly over to one of the front windows, drew aside the curtains, and pushed it open. All was still. She listened for she knew not what. There was a footstep from the far end of the walk leading from the summerhouse, a footstep she knew. Edith moved rapidly away from the window to the table and stood by it, her hand resting upon it, her knees fairly trembling in her emotion, as she waited. The next moment the open space framed the figure of Captain Thorne. He entered fearlessly, but when his eye fell upon her there was something so strained about her attitude that a spark of suspicion was kindled in his soul. Yet his action was prompt enough. He came instantly toward her and took her hand.
Edith watched his approach fascinated, as a bird by a serpent. His touch awakened her to action. She snatched her hand away and shrank back.
He looked at her in amazement. The spark of suspicion burst into flame, but she recovered herself instantly.
"Oh, it was you," she faltered. She forced a smile to her lips. "How perfectly absurd I am. I am sure I ought to be ashamed of myself. Come, let's go out on the veranda. I want to talk to you about so many things. There's--there's half an hour--yet before we must go to Caroline's."
She had possessed herself of his hand again as she spoke. She now stepped swiftly toward the window. He followed her reluctantly until they reached the opening. She stepped through it and archly looked back at him, still in the room.