She paused another moment, before she went on:—
“After all it was a desperate venture, and might have miscarried at the outset. I will not even say that I wish it had, since, humiliated though I am, I would not for all the world exchange my new for my old self. But the prize to be won seemed so inestimable, the hazard so thrilling. I do not believe the hateful ingratitude of the thing even struck us. We were born storytellers, and even as children were used to write endless romances together. We have played at life since, I think; I think we have never really grown up. Among the many stories associated with my brother’s office, we thought that this might pass muster without detection. But it was first necessary for us, of course, to separate. Under the pretext of a visit to the country I left our lodgings and repaired, as privately arranged, to Norwood, where, in an assumed name, I hired by the month the little house you will recall. In the meantime, as a precaution against possible enquiries, my brother had changed his lodgings for others at a distance. And then, having prepared our ground, we opened the game. The bogus advertisement was inserted; my brother craftily engaged your interest to it, and, when he saw that the bait had been taken, despatched to me that telegram which you saw, and which was to serve its two purposes, the one to acquaint me of your soon arrival, the other to furnish imaginary proof of the persecution under which I suffered.
“I need not say more. Carried away by the dramatic character of my part, I played it with a fervour which almost made me believe in it myself, and which I sometimes found it difficult afterwards to maintain. The miserable fraud succeeded even beyond our expectations in one way. It procured me a generous means of livelihood; and if it procured me also—”
Her voice thickened and stopped; but she cleared her throat resolutely, and continued:—
“Mr Balm, you must take what measures you will for our exposure and punishment. I beg you with all my soul not to spare us. The meanness of the fraud, the ingratitude, the thoughtlessness as to its moral effect upon you to whom we owed everything—O, nothing that I can say may palliate our guilt, or express the sickness of remorse which came to us when we grew to see ourselves as we were in the light of your true nobility. Only in atonement can we ever again find relief from a misery and self-contempt which have grown to be unbearable. When I speak for myself I speak for my brother. What we have experienced, what we have learnt of you—O, the shame is killing! But don’t, don’t think that in one way we have taken the least, the most shadowy advantage of your trust. You will find everything in the most scrupulous order; and if—if in committing us to the fate we deserve, you can only find it in your heart to say once that you forgive us—”
He stopped her on the instant, facing about.
“Nestle,” he said in a commanding voice, “you will oblige me by going back to the office. I wish to have a word alone with your sister.”
The secretary started, turned, and without a word left the room.
For minutes after he was gone Gilead stood steadfastly regarding the tragic young figure before him. And at last he spoke.
“Supposing you had been successful in your purpose—what then? Were you to live the lie for ever—you, as my wife?”