“He is changed,” said Burke Ranger.

That nameless terror crept closer about her heart.  Her eyes met his imploringly.

“Really I am quite strong,” she said.  “Won’t you tell me what is wrong?  He—­cabled to me to come to him.  It was in answer to my cable.”

“Yes, I know,” said Ranger.

He turned from her abruptly and walked to the window.  The darkness had drawn close.  It hung like a black curtain beyond the pane.  The only light in the room was a lamp that burned on a side table.  It illumined him but dimly, and again it seemed to the girl who watched him that this could be no other than the Guy of her dreams—­the Guy she had loved so faithfully, for whose sake she had waited so patiently for so many weary years.  Surely it was he who had made the mistake!  Surely even yet he would turn and gather her to his heart, and laugh at her folly for being so easily deluded!

Ah!  He had turned.  He stood looking at her across the dimly-lighted space.  Her very heart stood still to hear his voice.

He spoke.  “The best thing you can do is to go back to the place you came from—­and marry someone else.”

The words went through her.  They seemed to tear and lacerate her.  As in a nightmare vision she saw the bitterness that lay behind her, the utter emptiness before.  She still stared full at him, but she saw him not.  Her terror had taken awful shape before her, and all her courage was gone.  She cowered before it.

“I can’t—­I can’t!” she said, and even to herself her voice sounded weak and broken, like the cry of a lost child.  “I can’t go back!”

He came across the room to her, moving quickly, as if something urged him.  She did not know that she had flung out her hands in wild despair until she felt him gather them together in his own.

He bent over her, and she saw very clearly in his countenance that which had made her realize that he was not Guy.  “Look here!” he said.  “Have a meal and go to bed!  We will talk it out in the morning.  You are worn out now.”

His voice held insistence.  There was no softness in it.  Had he displayed kindness in that moment she would have burst into tears.  But he put her hands down again with a brief, repressive gesture, and the impulse passed.  She yielded him obedience, scarcely knowing what she did.

He brought her food and wine, and she ate and drank mechanically while he watched her with his grey, piercing eyes, not speaking at all.

Finally she summoned strength to look up at him with a quivering smile.  “You are very kind.  I am sorry to have given you so much trouble.”

He made an abrupt movement that she fancied denoted impatience.  “Can’t you eat any more?” he said.

She shook her head, still bravely smiling.  “I can’t—­really.  I think—­I think perhaps you are right.  I had better go to bed, and you will tell me everything in the morning.”