“Oh, yes. It is difficult not to think of one’s enemies sometimes.”
Honest astonishment came into Trent’s look and mien.
“Enemies! Your mother and I! What do you mean? If I were to call you my enemy, I should have some reason. The worst enmity I have ever shown you has been to give you a thousand a year, and to offer to pay your debts.”
“Yes, on conditions,” Alistair reminded him. But he did not speak with any appearance of resentment. The elder brother’s warmth had failed to rouse any answering warmth in the younger.
“On conditions which, as you must now admit, were for your own good. At least, I suppose that you are not prepared to defend that wretched woman any longer.”
“Silence!” Alistair had nearly sprung out of his chair. “Say whatever you like about me, I shan’t resent it; but leave Molly alone, please.”
Trent looked as bewildered as he felt.
“You know, don’t you?” he began.
Alistair cut him short.
“I know she has just done the greatest thing that any woman can do for a man. She loved me, she was married to me, she saw that I loved another woman, and she has deliberately set me free to marry her. By heavens! I should like to know how many of your Christian women would do as much as that!”