off with her
myself as the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll
come back. Hold the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can
straighten them all out," and with his arm still tight through Harry's,
the two walked the length of the room and closed the far door behind
them.

Kate looked after them and her heart sank all the lower. She knew the
feeling between the two men, and she knew Harry's hot, ungovernable
temper--the temper of the Rutters. Patient as he often was, and
tender-hearted as he could be, there flashed into his eyes now and then
something that frightened her--something that recalled an incident
in the history of his house. He had learned from his gentle mother
to forgive affronts to himself; she had seen him do it many times,
overlooking what another man would have resented, but an affront to
herself or any other woman was a different matter: that he would never
forgive. She knew, too, that he had just cause to be offended, for in
all her life no one had ever been so rude to her. That she herself was
partly to blame only intensified her anxiety. Willits loved her, for he
had told her so, not once, but several times, although she had answered
him only with laughter. She should have been honest and not played the
coquette: and yet, although the fault was partly her own, never had she
been more astonished than at his outburst. In all her acquaintance with
him he had never lost his temper. Harry, of course, would lay it to
Willits's lack of breeding--to the taint in his blood. But she knew
better--it was the insanity produced by drink, combined with his
jealousy of Harry, which had caused the gross outrage. If she had only
told Willits herself of her betrothal and not waited to surprise him
before the assembled guests, it would have been fairer and spared every
one this scene.

All these thoughts coursed through her mind as with head still proudly
erect she crossed the room on the colonel's arm, to a seat beside
her future mother-in-law, who had noticed nothing, and to whom not a
syllable of the affair would have been mentioned, all such matters being
invariably concealed from the dear lady.

Old Mrs. Cheston, however, was more alert; not only had she caught the
anger in Harry's eyes, but she had followed the flight of the torn
card as its pieces fell to the floor. She had once been present at a
reception given by a prime minister when a similar fracas had occurred.
Then it was a lady