He looked
up eagerly as the door opened, but his countenance fell when he saw that
it was only Miss Lee. She greeted him cordially.
"Good evening, Mr. Trevlyn. I am deputized to receive you, and my good
intentions must be accepted in place of more fervid demonstrations."
"I am happy to see you, Miss Lee. Where is Margie?"
"She is in her room, somewhat indisposed. She begged me to ask you to
excuse her, as she is unable to come down, and of course cannot have
pleasure of going with you to the opera."
"Sick? Margie sick!" he exclaimed, anxiously. "What can be the matter?
She was well enough three hours ago."
"O, do not be uneasy. It is nothing serious. A headache, I think. She
will be well after a night's rest. Cannot I prevail on you to sit down?"
"I think not, to-night, thank you. I will call to-morrow. Give Margie my
best love, and tell her how sorry I am that she is ill."
Alexandrine promised, and Mr. Trevlyn bowed himself out. She put her hand
to her forehead, which seemed almost bursting with the strange weight
there.
"Guilty or not guilty," she muttered, "what does it matter to me? I love
him, and that is enough?"
PART III.
The long night passed away, as all nights, however long and dark they may
be, will pass away.
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