They stood for a moment conversing—so their attitude told me—in short whispers; and then came slowly down the passage towards me, the lady appearing to protest whilst Leggat persuaded and reassured her. At first I took it for granted they would enter one of the doors opposite; but, as they still came on, I saw that I must either retreat or be discovered.
I backed, therefore, around the half-open door and into the room. Then, as their voices drew near, it flashed on me that this might be the room they were seeking. I took three breathless paces across it, and found the table's edge. Guiding myself by this, and guided by the mercy of Heaven, which kept my feet from striking against the furniture, I found myself within three yards of the window nearest to the fireplace, with just time enough to make a dash for cover, and whip behind the curtain before Leggat pushed the door wide, and the pair entered the room.
"You must give me five minutes!" Leggat was saying. "I tell you it's not for my sake, but for yours; it's your last chance!" Then, as the lady made no answer—"You did not believe you had another chance?" he asked.
"There can be none!" she answered now. "You have ruined me; you have ruined us all: and it was my fault for not warning Harry in time."
"My dear Ethel," he began; but a gesture of hers must have interrupted him, for he checked himself, and went on—"Very well, then, my dear Mrs. Carthew, if you prefer it; you are at once too weak and too scrupulous. A fatal defect, although you make it charming! Until too late, you hid from yourself that you loved me. When that became impossible you ran for shelter behind your vows and a theory—which you know in your heart to be impossible—that I, who had ventured so much for you, did not love you."
"Love!" she echoed hoarsely. "What love could it have been that sought this way?"
"Well, as it happens, it was a way. Harry? Tut-tut, with Harry I was merely the handiest excuse for going to the devil. Suppose you had never set eyes on me. You know well enough he was bound to gamble away Welland sooner or later, just as he will sooner or later drink himself dead. I am sorry for the child; but, look you, I am going to be frank. It was just through the child I hoped to get you. To save Welland for him I believed you would follow your heart and take my help with my love. You wouldn't. You couldn't help loving me, but—as you put it—you are a good woman: and even now, with the sale but an hour away and a sot of a husband to lead off with poverty, you won't."
She had set down the candle on the table; and now, having made a peephole between the two curtains, I saw her lift her head proudly.
"No," she said, "to my shame I loved you; but you would buy me, and I am not to be bought."