o make light of her great
fault, but now something was added, she hardly knew what, of which
she knew herself to be innocent. Something was hinted as to the
friendship remaining between her and this man, of which her husband,
in his pride, should not have accused her. What! Did he think that
she had willingly received her late lover as her friend in his house
and without his knowledge? If he thought that, then, indeed, must all
be over between them. "I do not know what it is that you suspect. You
had better say it out at once."
"Is this letter true?" and he held the letter up in his hand.
"I suppose it to be true. I do not know what it contains, but I
presume it to be true."
"You can read it," and he threw the letter on the table before her.
She took it up and slowly passed her eyes over the words,
endeavouring, as she did so, to come to some determination as to what
her conduct should be. The purport of the words she did not fully
comprehend, so fully was her mind occupied with thinking of the
condition of her husband's mind; but they left upon her an impression
that in the main Sir Francis Geraldine had told his story truly.
"Yes," she said, "it is true. Before I had met you I was engaged to
marry this other man. Our engagement was broken off, and then mamma
and I travelled abroad together. We there met you, and then you know
the rest."
"And you thought it proper that I should be kept in the dark!" She
remained silent. She could not apologise to him after hearing the
accusation which rankled in his bosom. She could not go about to
explain that the moment fittest for an explanation had never come.
She could not endeavour even to make him understand that because
her story was so like his own, hers had not been told. She knew the
comparative insignificance of her own fault, and yet circumstances
had brought it about that she must stand oppressed with this weight
of guilt in his eyes. As he should be just or unjust, or rather
merciful or unmerciful, so must she endure or be unable to endure
her doom. "I do not understand it," he said, with affected calm. "It
is the case, then, that you have brought me into this position with
premeditated falsehood, and have wilfully deceived me as to your
previous engagement?"
"No!"
"How then?"
"There has been no wilful deceit,--no cause for deceit whatsoever.
You were engaged to marry the lady who is now Mrs. Geraldine. I was
engaged to marry Sir Francis."
"But I t
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