"Where was it--at a theatre?"

A dead silence fell upon the group, and Guest gave Edie a look of agony
as the thought occurred to him: "He will forbid me his house now."

"Well," cried Sir Mark testily, for he had reached home early consequent
upon a few monitory twinges, which he dare not slight, "are you all
deaf?"

"I will tell you, dear," said Myra, taking her father's hand and
pressing it beneath her cheek. "Don't be angry with anybody but me, and
try and remember that I am no longer a girl, but a suffering woman, full
of grief and pain."

"My poor darling!" he whispered, bending down to kiss her. "But tell
me--were you taken ill at the theatre? Why, what does it mean?"

"I could bear it no longer, father," said Myra slowly. "I have been to
see Malcolm Stratton."

"What?"

"To ask him to explain."

"You--you have been to see that scoundrel--that--"

"Hush, dear! He was to have been my husband."

"And you--you actually went to see him--at his rooms?"

"Yes."

Sir Mark wiped his forehead, and looked fiercely from one to the other,
as if hardly believing his child's avowal to be true.

"I could not go on like this. It was killing me, dear."

"And--and you asked him to explain his cursed conduct?"

"I asked him to explain."

"And--and--what--what?" panted the old man furiously.

"No; he did not explain, dear," said Myra, drawing her father's arm
about her neck, and raising herself a little from the couch so as to
nestle on his breast. "It is fate, dear. I am never to leave you now.
Keep me, dear, and protect me. It is not his fault. Something terrible
has happened to him--something he could not own to, even to me--who was
to have been his wife."

"Edie--Guest--help!" panted the admiral. "Myra, my darling! She's
dying!"

"No, no, dear," she said, with a low moan, as she clung to him more
tightly, "a little faint--that's all. Ah! hold me to you, dear," she
sighed almost in a whisper. "Safe--with you."

And then to herself:

"He said his punishment was greater than he could bear. Malcolm, my
own--my own!"

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

A HORRIBLE SUGGESTION.

Only a few frowns from the admiral and a severe shake of the head over
their wine a day or two later, as, in obedience to a summons more than
an invitation, Guest dined with him and his sister, Edie having her
dinner with her cousin in Myra's room.

"I felt as if I ought to say a deal to you, young man," growled the
admi