d the
discovery which you have just mentioned to me?"

"Certainly!" I answered. "I consider that my husband owes me an
explanation. I have asked him to tell me what his extraordinary conduct
means--and he has refused, in language that frightens me. I have
appealed to his mother--and _she_ has refused to explain, in language
that humiliates me. Dear Major Fitz-David, I have no friends to take
my part: I have nobody to come to but you! Do me the greatest of all
favors--tell me why your friend Eustace has married me under a false
name!"

"Do _me_ the greatest of all favors;" answered the Major. "Don't ask me
to say a word about it."

He looked, in spite of his unsatisfactory reply, as if he really felt
for me. I determined to try my utmost powers of persuasion; I resolved
not to be beaten at the first repulse.

"I _must_ ask you," I said. "Think of my position. How can I live,
knowing what I know--and knowing no more? I would rather hear the
most horrible thing you can tell me than be condemned (as I am now) to
perpetual misgiving and perpetual suspense. I love my husband with all
my heart; but I cannot live with him on these terms: the misery of it
would drive me mad. I am only a woman, Major. I can only throw myself on
your kindness. Don't--pray, pray don't keep me in the dark!"

I could say no more. In the reckless impulse of the moment I snatched up
his hand and raised it to my lips. The gallant old gentleman started as
if I had given him an electric shock.

"My dear, dear lady!" he exclaimed, "I can't tell you how I feel for
you! You charm me, you overwhelm me, you touch me to the heart. What can
I say? What can I do? I can only imitate your admirable frankness, your
fearless candor. You have told me what your position is. Let me tell
you, in my turn, how I am placed. Compose yourself--pray compose
yourself! I have a smelling-bottle here at the service of the ladies.
Permit me to offer it."

He brought me the smelling-bottle; he put a little stool under my feet;
he entreated me to take time enough to compose myself. "Infernal fool!"
I heard him say to himself, as he considerately turned away from me for
a few moments. "If _I_ had been her husband, come what might of it, I
would have told her the truth!"

Was he referring to Eustace? And was he going to do what he would have
done in my husband's place?--was he really going to tell me the truth?

The idea had barely crossed my mind when I was startled by a lo