"And does she love him as he does her?"
"I fear so," said Pacey at last.
Cornel drew a long and piteous sigh, and they saw the tears brimming in
her eyes, run over, and trickle down her cheeks.
"Let us go, dear," she said softly. "I was too happy for it to last.
Forgive me: I felt that I must know--all. Good-bye, Mr. Pacey," she
continued, holding out her hand, while her face was of a deadly white.
"I am glad you wrote. You thought it would be best, but he must love
her better than ever he loved me, and perhaps it is for his
advancement."
"It is for his ruin, I tell you," cried Pacey fiercely.
"But you said she loved him. Is she not true and good?"
"Girl!" cried Pacey, with his brows knotted by the swelling veins, "can
the devil who tempts a man in woman's form be true and good?"
"Ah!"
Ejaculation as much as sigh, and accompanied by a wild look of horror.
Then, with her manner completely changed, Cornel laid her hand upon
Pacey's arm.
"Who is this woman?" she said firmly.
Pacey compressed his lips, but the beautiful eyes fixed upon him forced
the words to come, and in a low voice he muttered the Contessa's name.
Then he stood looking at his visitor wonderingly, as, with her lips now
white as if all the blood within them had fled to her heart, she said
firmly--
"And the Conte?"
"Is a man of fashion--a dog--a scoundrel whom I could crush beneath my
heel."
"Cornel," cried her brother firmly, "you have heard enough: you shall
not degrade yourself by listening to these wretched details."
"Yes, I have heard enough," she said firmly; but she did not stir, only
stood with her brows knit, gazing straight before her.
"Then now you will come back to the hotel," cried the doctor eagerly.
"No: not yet," she said, drawing herself up.
"Not yet?" cried Thorpe, in wonder at the firmness and determination she
displayed.
"Not yet: I am going to see Armstrong Dale."
"No," cried Pacey excitedly. "You must not do that. I will see him and
tell him you are here. It may bring him to his senses, and he will come
to you."
Cornel turned to him, smiling sadly.
"You tell me that he is slipping away into the gulf, and when I would go
to hold out my hands to save him, you say, `Wait, and he will come to
you!'"
"At any rate you cannot go," cried Thorpe.
"Armstrong Dale is my affianced husband, and at heart, in his weakness
and despair, he calls to me for help. I am going to him now."
"And God speed your work!" cried Pacey excitedly, "for if ever angel
came to help man in his sorest need, it is now."
The next minute, without a word, Cornel Thorpe was walking alone down
the old staircase to the street, while Pacey and her brother followed,
as if they were in a dream.