THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
echoed through the house as Maimie sprang from De Lacy's arms and shrank back to the wall.
"Great heavens," cried De Lacy, "why it's Macdonald! What the deuce do you mean coming in on people like that?"
"What is it, Maimie," cried her Aunt Frank, hurrying down stairs.
Then she saw Ranald standing in the doorway, with face bloodless, ghastly, livid. Quickly she went up to him, and said, in a voice trembling and not ungentle: "Oh, why did you wait, Mr. Macdonald; go away now, go away."
Ranald turned and looked at her with a curious uncomprehending gaze, and then said, "Yes, I will go away." He took a step toward Maimie, his eyes like lurid flames. She shrank from him, while De Lacy stepped in his path. With a sweep of his arm he brushed De Lacy aside, hurling him crashing against the wall, and stood before the shrinking girl.
"Good by, Maimie; forget that I loved you once."
The words came slowly from his pallid lips. For some moments he stood with his burning eyes fastened upon her face. Then he turned slowly from her and groped blindly for his hat. Miss St. Clair hurried toward him, found his hat, and putting it in his hand, said, in a broken voice, while tears poured down her cheeks: "Here it is; good by, good by."
He looked at her a moment as if in surprise, and then, with a smile of rare sweetness on his white lips, he said, "I thank you," and passed out, going feebly like a man who has got a death wound.
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