"We made a bad beginning," Jack said, ruefully.
They had reached the lake by this time, and they went on to a bench in a shady and sequestered spot. Madge's high spirits seemed suddenly to desert her, and she looked pensively across the glimmering water to the tall mansions of Hanover Terrace.
"Madge, something troubles you," her lover said, anxiously.
"Yes, Jack. I--I received an anonymous letter at noon. Mrs. Sedgewick forwarded it to me. Oh, it is shameful to speak of it--"
"An anonymous letter? There is nothing more vile or cowardly! Did it concern me?"
"I wish I had the scoundrel by the throat! You have no idea who sent it?"
"None, dear. It was in a strange, scrawly hand, and was postmarked Paddington."
"It is a mystery I am powerless to explain," Jack said dismally. "To the best of my knowledge I have not an enemy in the world. I can recall no one who would wish to do me an ill turn. And the writer lied foully if he gave me a bad character, Madge. Where is the letter?"
"I destroyed it at once. I hated to see it, to touch it."
"I am sorry you did that. It might have contained some clew. Tell me all, Madge. Surely, darling, you don't believe--"
"Jack, how can you think so?" She glanced up at him with a tender, trustful, and yet half-distressed look in her eyes. "Forgive me, dear. It is not that I doubt you, but--but I must ask you one question. You are a free man? There is no tie that could forbid you to marry me?"
"I am a free man," Jack answered her solemnly. "Put such evil thoughts out of your mind, my darling. By the passionate love I feel for you, by my own honor, I swear that I have an honest man's right to make you mine. But, as I told you before, I had a reckless past--"
"I don't want to hear about it," Madge interrupted.
No one was within sight or sound, so she put her arms about his neck and lifted her lips to his.
"Jack, you have made me so happy," she whispered. "I will forget that false, wicked letter. I love you, love you, dear. And I will be your wife whenever you wish--"
Her voice broke, and he kissed a tear from her burning cheek.
"My Madge!" he said, softly. "Do you care so much for me?"
Half an hour later they parted at the Hanover Gate. As he turned his steps homeward, the cowardly anonymous letter lay heavily on his mind. Who could have written it, and what did it contain? He more than suspected that it referred to his youthful marriage with Diane Merode.