Alva took the letter from Honora amid cries of dismay from them all.
She broke the seal, and as she opened the letter, a flashing diamond
ring fell out into her hand from the closely written sheet.
“It is the ring I gave her when we became engaged,” exclaimed St.
George, taking it and kissing it in memory of that night, his heart
thrilling with the memory of her beauty and sweetness as he kissed her
good-bye beneath the drooping vines.
Alva read aloud, knowing how impatient they would be to hear the letter:
“‘DEAR MISS BERESFORD--I have gone away because there is a secret I
can no longer keep from you, and I know that when you learn it you
will be glad I left you.
“‘I am the poor girl whose engagement to your brother so bitterly
outraged the Beresford pride.
“‘When I first came to you I was very happy, because I fancied I
might win your love, so that you would welcome St. George’s choice.
“‘But when you told me his story, although you seemed to take his
part, it seemed to me that you sympathized with your parents and
feared that your brother would be unhappy in the lot he had chosen.
You said he would be so poor he would regret that he had sacrificed
fortune for love’s sake.
“‘At first I did not believe it; I was resolved to cling to my lover,
and put his constancy to the test.
“‘When you told me that your brother’s love affair was over, that you
believed that your mother had persuaded him the girl was unworthy, I
fancied you were glad.
“‘So I knew there was no use staying on for his return. His heart had
turned from me, and he would be sorry to find me here.
“‘I, too, am proud, though not a Beresford. There may be other pride
than that of wealth and place.
“‘I, little Floy Fane, the daughter of a most unfortunate race, born
to a heritage of sorrow, poor and alone in life, am yet too proud to
thrust myself upon a family that despises me, yet whose equal I feel
myself to be in all but money--that mere dross to a truly noble heart.
“‘So I have left you forever. I am glad that I have been of some use
to you. I pity you and love you, for it seems to me that pride has
made shipwreck of your own life. Love has no part in it, and you are
not happy.
“‘Do not feel troubled over my fate. Thanks to your generosity, I
have money enough to support me till I find work again.
“‘This ring--your brother’s gift to me in the hour when I promised
to be his wife, not knowing his family’s pride and his own fickle
heart--please return to him with a last farewell from
“‘FLOY.’”
The letter bore date of the evening before. She had waited--poor little
loving heart--for one sight of him, her fickle, lost love; then she had
stolen away, alone and lonely, to begin her battle with the world again.
It was a cruel disappointment to them all, but they bore it bravely,
because it did not seem possible that Floy could hide herself from them
long.
Indeed, she had not even threatened to hide herself, for how could she
suppose they would search for her in her exile?
She had told herself most bitterly that they would rejoice at her
flight.
“Oh, the proud little darling, how cruelly she misunderstood me!” cried
Alva, tenderly. “But we will send for Floyd Landon. He will find her
for us as he did before.”