She must say something, and those are the first words that come across her mind. While he is answering them, she will have an instant of time to think what she will say about the contents of the letter. Deny it she will with her latest breath. Let him _prove_ that she went riding with Victor Lamont--_if he can!_ Jay Gardiner's face turns livid, and in a voice which he in vain tries to make steady, he says: "How long have you thought so?" "Since yesterday," she answered, her eyes still fixed on the floor. "Since yesterday"--Jay Gardiner is almost choking with anger as he repeats her words--"since you, another man's wife, took that midnight ride which this letter refers to?" The sarcasm which pervades the last words makes her flush to the roots of her yellow hair. "But that I am too much amused, I should be tempted to be angry with you for believing a story from such a ridiculous source," she declared, raising her face defiantly to his. "Then you deny it?" he cried, grasping her white arm. "You say there is no truth in the report?" "Not one word," she answered. "I left the ball-room early, because it was lonely for me there _without you_, and came directly to my room. Antoinette could have told you that had you taken the pains to inquire of her." "It would ill become me to make such an inquiry of a servant in my employ," he replied. "You are the one to answer me." "If the ridiculous story _had_ been true, you could not have wondered at it much," she declared, with a hard glitter in her eye, and a still harder laugh on her red lips. "When a man neglects his wife, is it any wonder that she turns to some one else for amusement and--and comfort?" "Call your maid at once to pack up your trunks. We leave the Ocean House within an hour." With these words, he strode out of the room, banging the door after him. "God! how I hate that man!" hissed Sally. "I think his death will lay at my door yet." CHAPTER XL. Leave Newport when the season was at its height! The very thought of such a thing was bitterness itself to Sally Gardiner, this butterfly of fashion, who loved the whirl of society as dearly as the breath of life. Antoinette entered, bearing a bouquet of fragrant crimson roses in her hand. Sally sprung from the chair, into which she had sunk a moment before, with a frightened little cry. What if Jay Gardiner had by chance been in the room when those roses were brought in, with Victor Lamont's card attached? What if he had snatched them from Antoinette's hand, and discovered the note that was hidden in their fragrant depths? "The handsome English gentleman sends these, with his compliments, to madame," whispered the girl, after casting a furtive glance about the apartment, to make sure Doctor Gardiner had gone. "Yes, yes," murmured Sally, blushing furiously. "Hand them to me, and then go into the next room. I shall not want you for a few moments. When I do, I will ring."