The betrothal ring rolled
out and fell with a hollow sound on the floor. The ring he had put upon
her finger--the ring he had seen her kiss more than once! He looked over
the contents of the box hurriedly; every little thing he had ever given
her was there, even to a bunch of faded violets!
But the letter? He had almost forgotten it, in pondering over the dread
significance of the return of his presents. He took it up, and broke the
seal with slow deliberation. It would not tell him any news, but it might
contain an explanation. His face grew pale as ashes as he read, and he
put his hand to his heart, as though he had received a blow there. Twice
he read it through, and at the last reading he seemed to realize its
dread portent.
"She gives me up! Margie renounces me! Strangers we must be henceforth!
What does it all mean? Am I indeed awake, or is this only a painful
dream?"
He read a few lines of the missive a third time. Something of the old
dominant spirit of Archer Trevlyn came back to him.
"There is some misunderstanding. Margie has been told some dire
falsehood!" he exclaimed, starting up. "I will know everything. She
shall explain fully."
He seized his hat and hurried to her residence. The family were at
breakfast, the servant said, who opened the door.
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