"I am!" cried Tremenhere, in a hoarse but steady voice, looking up. "I rejoice; better know her dead, than his!" and he rose and strode across the room. "I do rejoice, Duplin; see, my hand even does not tremble. Now I can bear my sorrow; now the world is one huge blank before me. I have lost that leper spot which was tainting all my flesh; I have no past, no present, no future—all is alike a blank. I can walk on in the darkness, nor fear to meet her form at every step!"
Duplin stood awed by his calmness, it seemed so terrific over those young graves. "Who can have sent that paper?" he asked, taking the journal in his hand.
"An enemy; but I guess him. I defy them all now! They can wound no more—my wound is cleansed, and healed; I defy them! the plague spot has left me! Rejoice Duplin, rejoice!"
When he went forth from that house, his step was exact, the brow stern and cold, but untroubled, the mouth compressed and calm, and the pale woman closely veiled, who was concealed in a gateway watching the exit of him whom she had seen enter Duplin's abode, felt her hopeful heart loosen all its chords, and wellnigh burst in its sorrow, as she failed to read one regret on that face of stone. She knew he must have received the paper which told him all, and now indeed she felt he had never loved her—all was lost. She had but three things to comfort her; first, her own upright conscience, her boy, and the morbid satisfaction of being indeed dead to all, lone, and uncomforted, and thus she crept back to her gloomy garret.
Once again she saw Miles; her dress touched him in the half-lighted street at night. He was cold, unmoved, as before. She stretched a hand to touch him; his name was on her lips; but he passed on, and the whispered word died away in a hysterical sob.
Next day he quitted for England, without seeking any communication with Mary, and Minnie remained to weep and toil.
CHAPTER XII.
Four months passed away, and February, with its cold assumption of earliest spring, found a crowd of fashionables assembled in the French capital; and, amongst others, Lady Ripley, Lady Lysson, and Lady Dora.
It would be impossible to convey to many minds, or easily describe, the chilling effect which pride, and a luxuriously-indulged fashionable existence, throw over a heart which otherwise might have been warm, generous, and loving. Lady Dora was painfully shocked when she heard of Minnie's death; but then she had her mother's cold reasonings to soothe her grief.