"Why did you destroy it?"
"I--I don't know," murmured Alix through set, rigid lips.
"Yes, you DO know," said the other firmly.
Alix looked dumbly into her old friend's eyes for a moment, and
then her honest heart spoke: "I destroyed it, Aunt Nancy, because
I was afraid to read it again. It was from Addison Blythe. He has
been making inquiries concerning Courtney Thane. In that letter he
said things which, if true, make Courtney out to be a most--a most
unworthy person."
She turned to look into the fire, her eyes narrowing. The black,
flaky remnants of the letter were still fluttering on the hearth.
As she watched, the draft caught them and sent them swirling up
the chimney.
A high wind was blowing outside. It whistled mournfully around the
corners of the house. Somewhere on the floor above a door, buffeted
by the wind from an open window, beat a slow and muffled measure
against its frame.
David's mother saw the colour slowly return to her companion's face.
She waited. Something akin to joy possessed her. She was afraid to
speak for fear that her voice would betray her. At last she said:
"We know nothing about Mr. Thane except what he has told us, Alix."
The girl looked searchingly into her eyes.
"You do not like him, Aunt Nancy. I have felt it from the beginning.
Is it because you are David's mother?"
Mrs. Strong started.
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