Miss Fernly had always spoken of the bride to be as her niece, but had never once mentioned her name.
For one moment Ida May stood irresolute. She now realized what she had done, and wondered how Hildegarde would take the terrible mistake.
For a moment the three stood silent. Who would be the one to break the terrible news to Hildegarde?
"What is the matter, and who is this beautiful young girl, clad in bridal robes, whom you hold by the hand, Eugene?"
He tried to speak, but he could not utter a word if his life had depended upon it. Even Miss Fernly seemed to have been stricken dumb. Ida May knew that it devolved upon her to utter the words which would stab Hildegarde Cramer to the very soul. She saw the lover try to speak, and fail, and also saw Miss Fernly's lips twitch convulsively.
Nerving herself for the ordeal through which she must pass, she stepped forward.
"Let _me_ answer for them," she said, in a voice that sounded to Hildegarde's ears like the strain of some half-forgotten melody. And as she uttered the words she threw back her veil.
"Yes, I am that hapless creature whom you knew as Ida May."
For an instant there was silence, broken only by the sound of the labored breathing of Miss Fernly, Hildegarde, and Eugene Mallard.
In an instant the haughty heiress had recovered herself. She recoiled from the girl who advanced pleadingly before her.
"Hildegarde! Hildegarde!" Ida cried, much to the astonishment of Miss Fernly and her companion, "I did not know that it was you whom I was to confront in this awful hour!"
But Hildegarde shrunk still further from her. How dared this creature, who had passed those weeks at Newport a living lie, to claim acquaintance with her!
She flushed crimson, and retreated from her in abhorrence, wondering how this creature had come here, accompanied by her aunt and lover.
"Hildegarde!" cried Ida May, "listen, for the love of Heaven, and do not judge me too harshly until you have heard all!"
Sobbing wildly, Ida caught at the hem of Hildegarde's dress.
"Auntie!" cried Hildegarde, turning to her relative, "I do not care to listen to anything this--this person has to say. The very air she breathes stifles me. Eugene!" she cried, springing to her lover's side, "take me in to the drawing-room. I--I can not talk to this young girl."