A gentle tyrant--that is what you
must be to Bella Bassett. Oh, you sweet, sweet, for calling me that!"
These projects were interrupted by a servant announcing luncheon. This
made Sir Charles look hastily at his watch, and he found it was past
two o'clock.
"How time flies in this house!" said he. "I must go, dearest; I am
behind my appointment already. What do you do this afternoon?"
"Whatever you please, my own."
"I could get away by four."
"Then I will stay at home for you."
He left her reluctantly, and she followed him to the head of the
stairs, and hung over the balusters as if she would like to fly after
him.
He turned at the street-door, saw that radiant and gentle face beaming
after him, and they kissed hands to each other by one impulse, as if
they were parting for ever so long.
He had gone scarcely half an hour when a letter, addressed to her, was
left at the door by a private messenger.
"Any answer?" inquired the servant.
"No."
The letter was sent up, and delivered to her on a silver salver.
She opened it; it was a thing new to her in her young life--an
anonymous letter.
"MISS BRUCE--I am almost a stranger to you, but I know your character
from others, and cannot bear to see you abused. You are said to be
about to marry Sir Charles Bassett.
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