The weary hours passed, and Amy returned. Her usually bright manner had disappeared; her step had lost its lightness, and there was an air of languor about her, very foreign to her nature. As she caught sight of Reg she hung down her head, and passed rapidly into the house, taking no notice of the dogs who bounded towards her barking with delight. Reg slowly followed her, his face revealing the troubles of his heart.
"My darling girl," said Mrs. Whyte, as she met her in the passage and, fondly throwing her arms around her, drawing her into the room. "Won't you trust us and tell us what is the matter?"
"Don't ask me, mother," said Amy, bursting into tears.
"Look here, Amy," said Whyte, coming forward and vainly trying to put a trace of sternness in his voice. "You must give us some explanation of your conduct, dear. You are not acting fairly by Reg."
"Oh, Amy, darling, I'll forgive anything. Only do tell me what has come between us," said Reg, coming quickly forward, and taking her hand he led her to a sofa.
At length her sobs became less violent, and she tried to say with some air of decision:
"I want you to release me, Reg. I find I do not love you sufficiently to be your wife."
"Yes, Reg dear. I cannot marry you now. I thought I loved you, but I find now I love another."
"Yes. He told me to call him Wyck;" and here she began feverishly to pull off her engagement ring.
"Oh, don't take that off," cried Reg, in a pained voice.
"I must, Reg, I must. He told me to;" and she handed back the ring she had worn and caressed so long.
"Then all is over between us," said Reg, quietly.
"Yes, Reg. I am sorry, but it must be," and she slowly rose and went to her room, not noticing any of the others.
"Reg, my dear boy, bear up; be a man. God knows, it is a severe blow for us. So changed; so different! Had anyone told me that such a catastrophe could happen in such a short time, I would have given him the lie direct."
"Yes, Whyte, you are right. It is a blow, but there are times in every man's life when he is called on to bear the heaviest burdens, and it is his duty to submit. She has told me she prefers Wyck, as she calls him, to me; so I give way, and God grant he may make her happy."
"He is a stranger to us and, if he does marry her, he will take her away from us, and we may never meet again. With her all our happiness disappears," and tears again welled in the good old man's eyes.