"My poor little Elsie, my sister, my treasure!"
"Do you love me so much, Grant?"
"Better than ever; you are all I have now! Oh, Elsie, don't shut your heart against me, I can't bear that. Try to believe that I have acted as justly as a man could. To the whole world I can be stern and silent, but let me tell you the truth. I loved that woman so, my heart is breaking under this grief. Bear patiently with me, child."
"Oh, if you suffer, send for her back," cried Elsie. "Let her explain; you gave her no time——"
"Hush, hush! Have I not said all those things to myself?"
This man's pride was so utterly crushed that he was revealing the inmost secrets of his soul to this frail girl, scarcely caring to conceal from her how keenly he suffered.
"But try," pleaded Elsie; "only try."
"It is impossible; later you will see that as plainly as I do. Don't you see what a sin I should commit in taking a false, dishonored woman back to my heart; what a wrong to my sister in exposing her to the society of a creature so lost and fallen?"
"She is good!" cried Elsie. "Bessie was an angel! Oh, I wish I was dead—dead—dead! I can't bear this; it is too much—too much!"
Elsie wrung her hands and sobbed piteously; she had wept until nature exhausted itself, and that choked anguish was more painful to witness than the most violent outburst of tears.