"Dr. Spenlove, notwithstanding what has occurred, I am here in Portsmouth this night with the intention of carrying out the engagement into which I entered with her. I am here, prepared to marry her, on express conditions. The adoption of assumed names, the obscurity she has courted, the absolute silence which is certain to be observed by her, by me, by you, by the man who betrayed her, render me safe. It is known that I have come to England to be married, and she will be accepted as I present her when I return with her as my wife. I will have no discussion as to my motives for taking what the world would consider an unwise step, but you will understand that my feelings for the woman who has played me false must be of a deep and sincere nature, or I should not dream of taking it.
"It now only remains for me to state the conditions under which I am prepared to save her from even a more shameful degradation than that into which she has already fallen. I speak plainly; you know as well as I the fate that is in store for her if my offer is rejected."
[CHAPTER III.]
DR. SPENLOVE UNDERTAKES A DELICATE MISSION.
Mr. Gordon had spoken throughout in a cold, passionless tone, and with no accent of emotion in his voice. If anything could have been destructive of the idea that he loved the woman he wished to marry, it was his measured delivery of the story he had related; and yet there could be no question that there was some nobility in the nature of the sacrifice he was prepared to make for her sake. The contrast between the man and the woman struck Dr. Spenlove very forcibly; the man was hard and cold, the woman was sensitive and sympathetic. Had their circumstances been equal, and had Dr. Spenlove been an interested adviser, he would have had no hesitation in saying to her, "Do not marry this man; no touch of tenderness unites you; you can never kindle in his heart the fire which burns within your own; wedded to him a dull routine of years will be your portion." But he felt that he dared not encourage himself to pursue this line of argument. Although the most pregnant part of Mr. Gordon's errand had yet to be disclosed, it seemed to him that he would very likely presently be the arbiter of her destiny. "You will be able," Mr. Gordon had said, "to make clear to her the effect of her consent or refusal upon her destiny and the destiny of her child." Whatever the conditions, it would be his duty to urge her to accept the offer that would be made to her; otherwise he might be condemning her to a course of life he shuddered to contemplate. The responsibility would be too solemn for mere sentimental considerations. These were the thoughts that flashed through his mind in the momentary pause before Mr. Gordon spoke again.
"I believe," his visitor then said, "that I am in possession of the facts relating to Mrs. Turner's circumstances"--he reverted to the name by which she was generally known--"but you will corroborate them perhaps. She is in want."
"She is in the lowest depths of poverty."
"Unless she pays the arrears of rent she will be turned into the streets to-morrow."
"That is the landlord's determination."
"She would have been turned out to-day but for your intervention."