Despite him, it was the beauty that she had inherited from her mother they had used to gain the betrothal, and it had not been easy. Ray did not pace, he just stood. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. ‘Say then, Jacques, you have followed him?’ she demanded of the blackgarbed footman.
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