as my objection to you, and then I did not know
your character. But when I saw you come out pale and resolved to
sacrifice yourself to justice and another woman, that converted me at
once. Ask Julia what I said about you."

"I must interrupt you," said Grace. "I can not let such a man as you
excuse yourself to a girl of eighteen who has nothing but reverence for
you, and would love you if she dared."

"Then all I can say is that you are very mysterious, my dear, and I wish
you would speak out."

"I shall speak out soon enough," said Grace, solemnly, "now I have begun.
Colonel Clifford, you have nothing to reproach yourself with. No more
have I, for that matter. Yet we must both suffer." She hesitated a
moment, and then said, firmly, "You do me the honor to approve my conduct
in that dreadful situation. Did you hear all that passed? did you take
notice of all I said?"

"I did," said Colonel Clifford. "I shall never forget that scene, nor the
distress, nor the fortitude of her I am proud to call my daughter."

Grace put her hands before her face at these kind words, and he saw the
tears trickle between her white fingers. He began to wonder, and to feel
uneasy. But the brave girl shook off her tears, and manned herself, if
we may use such an expression.

"Then, sir," said she, slowly and emphatically, though quietly, "did
you not think it strange that I should say to my father, 'I don't
know?' He asked me before you all, 'Are you a wife?' Twice I said to my
father--to him I thought was my father--'I don't know.' Can you account
for that, sir?"

The Colonel replied, "I was so unable to account for it that I took Julia
Clifford's opinion on it directly, as we were going home."

"And what did she say?"

"Oh, she said it was plain enough. The fellow had forbidden you to own
the marriage, and you were an obedient wife; and, like women in general,
strong against other people, but weak against one."

"So that is a woman's reading of a woman," said Grace. "She will
sacrifice her honor, and her father's respect, and court the world's
contempt, and sully herself for life, to suit the convenience of a
husband for a few hours. My love is great, but it is not slavish or
silly. Do you think, sir, that I doubted for one moment Walter Clifford
would own me when he came home and heard what I had suffered? Did I think
him so unworthy of my love as to leave me under that stigma? Hardly. Then
why should I blacken Mrs. Walter Cliff