ed from his eyes as he
fastened them upon her. "You're so hungry to send a soul to hell, take
care you don't find yourself there. Do you think your past life can save
you? Wait till I've told you what it has been. You began by blasting a
true man's life, trusting too easily, against all internal evidence, to
the lies that were told you about him. Next, you married the liar, not
loving him, but so that the other might hear it, and believe you had
forgotten him; so you acted a lie to him, and prostituted yourself
bodily and spiritually to gratify your pride and revenge. Not the sort
of thing that gets people to heaven, so far, is it?"

Abbie still pressed her hands to her head, and stared before her without
speaking.

"You were false to your marriage vows; after that, you neglected your
husband no less than he you; you never tried to make yourself lovable to
him; you were the only wronged one! you could do no wrong yourself! At
last you had a son."

She raised her eyes, which, during the last few minutes had become
bloodshot, and fixed them fearfully upon the young man's face, as he
continued:

"You loved him, as most females do love their young, and yet not so
generously as most. It was not as his father's child, but only as your
own, that he was dear to you; he was _your_ child, a part of yourself,
and you loved him only because you loved yourself.

"When he was still a baby you left your husband's house, and thereby, if
justice were done, forfeited the recognition of good women, and pure
society; but you took great credit to yourself because you left your son
and your money behind you. Was it nothing in the balance, then, the
scandal, worse than any poverty, which the recovery of your property
would have caused? Nothing but self-sacrifice, to leave a sickly child
to all the advantages that wealth could give it? Well, a month
afterward, in spite of wealth, your son died."

At this announcement, Abbie's convulsive strength, which had thus far
served to keep her erect and motionless, exhaled itself in a long groan,
and left her placid and nerveless. Seeing her about to fall, Bressant
put forth his hands and grasped her arms below the shoulder, holding her
thus while he went on. Her eyes were closed and her head fell forward on
her bosom; but, so blinded was the young man by the remorseless passion
which had gradually been working up within him, he failed to perceive
that the old woman's ears were no longer sensible