'You saw Adeline; you admired her; and wished to introduce her to your sisters—this, honour forbad me to allow'—(the sisters started from their seats) 'for Adeline is not my wife, but my companion.'
Here Maynard made a full pause—at once surprised and confounded. His sisters, pleased as well as astonished, looked triumphantly at each other; and Mrs Wallington exclaimed. 'So, then, this angel of purity turns out to be a kept lady!' At this remark Miss Maynard laughed heartily, but Maynard, to hide his confusion, commanded silence, and went on with the letter:
'But spite of her situation, strange as it may seem to you, believe me, no wife was ever more pure than Adeline.'
At this passage the sisters could no longer contain themselves, and they gave way to loud bursts of laughter, which Maynard could hardly help joining in; but being angry at the same time he uttered nothing but an oath, which I shall not repeat, and retreated to his chamber to finish the letter alone.
During his absence the laughters redoubled;—but in the midst of it Maynard re-entered, and desired they would allow him to read the letter to the end. The sisters immediately begged that he would proceed, as it was so amusing that they wished to hear more.—Glenmurray continued thus:
'You have no doubt yet to learn that some few years ago I commenced author, and published opinions contrary to the established usage of society: amongst other things I proved the absurdity of the institution of marriage; and Adeline, who at an early age read my works, became one of my converts.'
'The man is certainly mad,' cried Maynard, 'and how dreadful it is that this angelic creature should have been his victim.'
'But perhaps this fallen angel, brother, for such you will allow she is, spite of her purity, was as wicked as he. I know people in general only blame the seducer, but I always blame the seduced equally.'
'I do not doubt it,' said her brother sneeringly, and going on with the letter.
'No wonder then, that, being forced to fly from her maternal roof, she took refuge in my arms.'