"Tony wouldn't be such a beast," exclaimed Myra. "If he dared to blame
me, I'd break off my engagement and marry Don Carlos, if only to spite
him."
"Humph! And supposing, after breaking off your engagement, you found
that Don Carlos did not want to marry you, what a fool you'd look and
feel!" responded her aunt. "My dear Myra, don't you realise that if
the facts were known the world would condemn you for attempting to play
fast and loose with both Tony Standish and Don Carlos de Ruiz, and the
general verdict would be that it served you right to be left in the
lurch. Tony would be quite justified in throwing you over, and by the
time the gossips had finished your reputation would be--well, rather
the worse for wear."
"Aunt Clarissa, you don't really think Tony would throw me over if he
knew?" asked Myra anxiously, after a thoughtful pause. "Why, I told
Tony at Auchinleven that I intended to flirt with Don Carlos and make
him fall in love with me, but he would not take me seriously. I told
him I meant it and was in earnest, but he only laughed. It is really
all his fault. And he was so obtuse this afternoon. Surely he might
have guessed what had happened."
Lady Fermanagh sat silent for a full minute, then suddenly she rose and
laid her hands on Myra's shoulders.
"Myra Rostrevor, answer me truthfully," she commanded, with a searching
glance. "Are you, or are you not, in love with Don Carlos?"
"I--I don't know," Myra answered, shaking her head distractedly. "I
think I hate him, but if I could believe he was really sincere and in
earnest I think I should love him. If I had been tempting, teasing,
and tantalising him to-day, as I did when we were at Auchinleven, I
could excuse him for losing his head and kissing me. To-day I didn't
give him the slightest encouragement. He had shown his indifference by
going away without even a word of farewell, and I suppose he kissed me
in cold blood merely to fulfil his threat and his boast that he always
keeps a promise."
"Cold-blooded kisses can hardly be very shocking, I should imagine,"
remarked Lady Fermanagh drily.
"They were not cold-blooded. He kissed me ravenously, passionately,
and almost stifled me. I felt as if he were drinking the heart out of
me," said Myra. "If I was sure he is as frantically in love with me as
he professes to be, I could excuse him, and I might find myself falling
in love with him. It is the thought that he may still only be amusing
himself, gratifying his vanity and trying to make good his boast that
no woman can resist him, that galls me. If I confessed myself in love
with him, and he then told me he had merely been amusing himself and
proving his power, I should die of shame."