"You think I have said enough?" she asked.
"You could not say more," was the reply. After a moment's pause he continued, "Are you willing that I should give Miss Ainslie any statement I may choose of this matter?"
"I should prefer," she answered, "that nothing more be said; unless," she added, with a smile, "you conceive that your duty imperatively demands it."
"And Hesden?" he began.
"Pardon me, sir," she said, with dignity; "I will not conceal from you that my son's course has given me great pain; indeed, you are already aware of that fact. Since yesterday, I have for the first time admitted to myself that in abandoning the cause of the Southern people he has acted from a sense of duty. My own inclination, after sober second thought," she added, as a slight flush overspread her pale face, "would have been to refuse, as he has done, this bounty from the hands of a stranger; more particularly from one in the position which Miss Ainslie has occupied; but I feel also that her unexpected delicacy demands the fullest recognition at our hands. Hesden will take such course as his own sense of honor may dictate."
"Am I at liberty to inform him of the nature of the testament which you have made?"
"I prefer not."
"Well," said Pardee, "if there is nothing more to be done I will bid you good-evening, hoping that time may yet bring a pleasant result out of these painful circumstances."
After the lawyer had retired, Mrs. Le Moyne summoned her son to her bedside and said,
"I hope you will forgive me, Hesden, for all—"