“Today,” corrected Miss Morton. “It is already the day on which our dear Madeleine was to have become a bride. And instead⁠—” Glancing around the brilliant room and at the bridal bower, Miss Morton’s composure gave way entirely, and she sobbed hysterically. At this Cicely Dupuy came across from the library. Putting her arm around Miss Morton, she led the sobbing woman away, and without a word to Tom Willard gave him a glance which seemed to say that he must look out for himself, for her duty was to attend Miss Morton.

As the two women left the drawing-room Tom followed them. He walked slowly, and stared about as if uncertain where to go. He paused a moment midway in the room, and, stooping, picked up some small object from the carpet, which he put in his waistcoat pocket.

A moment more and he had crossed the hall and stood at the library door, gazing at the scene which had already shocked and saddened the others.

With a groan, as of utter anguish, Tom involuntarily put up one hand before his eyes.