ch; years ago now.'
'When you were with Hewby, of course, of course. Well, I can't
understand it.' His tones rose. 'I don't know what to say, your
hoodwinking me like this for so long!'
'I don't see that I have hoodwinked you at all.'
'Yes, yes, but'----
Knight arose from his seat, and began pacing up and down the room. His
face was markedly pale, and his voice perturbed, as he said--
'You did not act as I should have acted towards you under those
circumstances. I feel it deeply; and I tell you plainly, I shall never
forget it!'
'What?'
'Your behaviour at that meeting in the family vault, when I told you
we were going to be married. Deception, dishonesty, everywhere; all the
world's of a piece!'
Stephen did not much like this misconstruction of his motives, even
though it was but the hasty conclusion of a friend disturbed by emotion.
'I could do no otherwise than I did, with due regard to her,' he said
stiffly.
'Indeed!' said Knight, in the bitterest tone of reproach. 'Nor could
you with due regard to her have married her, I suppose! I have
hoped--longed--that HE, who turns out to be YOU, would ultimately have
done that.'
'I am much obliged to you for that hope. But you talk very mysteriously.
I think I had about the best reason anybody could have had for not doing
that.'
'Oh, what reason was it?'
'That I could not.'
'You ought to have made an opportunity; you ought to do so now, in bare
justice to her, Stephen!' cried Knight, carried beyond himself. 'That
you know very well, and it hurts and wounds me more than you dream to
find you never have tried to make any reparation to a woman of that
kind--so trusting, so apt to be run away with by her feelings--poor
little fool, so much the worse for her!'
'Why, you talk like a madman! You took her away from me, did you not?'
'Picking up what another throws down can scarcely be called "taking
away." However, we shall not agree too well upon that subject, so we had
better part.'
'But I am quite certain you misapprehend something most grievously,'
said Stephen, shaken to the bottom of his heart. 'What have I done; tell
me? I have lost Elfride, but is that such a sin?'
'Was it her doing, or yours?'
'Was what?'
'That you parted.'
'I will tell you honestly. It was hers entirely, entirely.'
'What was her reason?'
'I can hardly say. But I'll tell the story without reserve.'
Stephen until to-day had unhesitatingly held that she
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