"
My heart stood still. "To tell me! Why, what are you going to do?"
"It is very hard to tell you," she faltered. "You and Claudia are my
dearest friends, and I cannot bear to give you pain. But I must tell
you at once. It is only right that you should know--especially as you
will disapprove."
I turned to look at her, but she could not meet my eyes.
"Give us pain! Disapprove!" I exclaimed. "What on earth do you mean,
Ideala? What are you going to do?"
"An immoral thing," she answered.
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, throwing down my palette, and rising to
confront her. "I don't believe it."
"I mean," she stammered--the blood rushing into her face and then
leaving her white as she spoke--"something which you will consider so.
"I cannot believe it," I reiterated.
"But it is true. He says so."
"_He_--who, in God's name?"
"Lorrimer."
"And who on earth is Lorrimer?"
"That is what I came to tell you," she answered, faintly.
I gathered up my palette and brushes, and sat down to my easel again.
"Tell me, then," I said, as calmly as I could.
I pretended to paint, and after a little while, still standing behind
me so that I could not see her face, she began in a low voice, and told
me, with her habitual accuracy, all that had passed between them.
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