Brought back to his child's suffering, the admiral hurried her up to the drawing room and let her sink back on a couch. Then, turning to the bell, he was about to ring for help, but Myra rose. "No; don't ring," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm better now." At that moment Miss Jerrold's carriage stopped at the door, and directly after Sir Mark's sister appeared with Edie, who, looking white and scared, ran at once to her cousin and clung to her, uttering violent sobs. "Silence, Edie!" thundered the admiral. "Look at your cousin. You must be a woman now. Ah, here you are, then!" he continued fiercely as Percy Guest entered. "Yes; I came up for a moment before I go on there." "I'm glad you've come," cried the old man furiously, and leaping at someone upon whom he could vent his rage. "Now, then, explain, you dog. What does that villain--that scoundrel--mean by insulting me--my child, like this? Damn him! I'll--" "Stop, Sir Mark!" cried Guest firmly. "You don't know what you are saying." "What?" "And I will not stand here and have my dear old friend and schoolfellow insulted by such words." "Insulted!" cried Sir Mark, with a harsh laugh; "insulted?" "Yes, sir. Malcolm Stratton is the soul of honour--a gentleman who would have laid down his life sooner than cause pain to the lady he loves with all his heart." "God bless you for that, Mr Guest!" cried Myra--catching the young man's hand as she spoke--in a broken voice, which she fought hard to render calm. "Bah! Heroics! Come away, Myra. Of course he'll talk big for his friend. But where is he? Why has he insulted us all like this?" "Heaven only knows, sir," said Guest solemnly. "Forgive me for speaking as I do before you, Mrs Barron, but at the cost of alarming you I must take Malcolm's part. I saw him this morning at his chambers, ready almost to come on. He placed Miss Perrin's telegram in my hands--about the bouquet--and begged me to see to it at once--to take the flowers to the hotel, and meet him at the church." "Yes--yes!" cried Myra eagerly, and her large, dark eyes were dilated strangely. "I did not pay any heed to it then, for I attributed it to anxiety and nervous excitement." "What, Mr Guest?" cried Myra piteously. "His appearance, Mrs Barron. There was a peculiar wild look in his eyes, and his manner was strange and excited. Some seizure must have been coming on." "Yes, yes; it is that," said Myra hoarsely, and she hurriedly tore off gloves, veil, and ornaments. "He was quite well last night," said the admiral scornfully. "It was a trick to get rid of you. I'll never believe but what it is all some deeply laid plan." "You do not know what you are saying, Sir Mark, or I would resent your words. Mrs Barron, I will come back directly I obtain tidings of my poor friend. You know him better than to think ill of him." "Yes, yes," cried Myra, speaking firmly now, but in a low, hurried murmur. "But stop, Mr Guest; stop!"