He told Lady Hermione all about the tenant of the Dower House, and she was much interested in the story.
“I should like to call upon her,” said Lady Hermione, “for I agree with you, it is no common sorrow that tires one of life at her age. Ask her if she would like to see me.”
He hardly knew why in his heart he felt so grateful to Lady Alden for her kindness.
It was not long before he found there was need for a second visit to Mrs. Payton; there was to be a contract drawn up respecting the window, which they both had to sign. Then he mentioned Lady Alden’s desire to know and be of service to her, but, to his surprise, the beautiful Spanish face flushed deeply, the proud, sweet lips quivered, and Mrs. Payton turned quickly away from him.
“No,” she replied, abruptly, at last, “it cannot be, Mr. Eyrle. I am deeply, truly grateful to Lady Alden for her kindness; tell her so. But ask her to pardon me; that I can receive no visitors; that, being innocent, I must yet live as though I were guilty; that, being free from guilt, I must pay the price of sin. I cannot see her.”
He wondered at her agitation, at the emotion that softened her face and made it so wondrously fair.
“What has this woman done?” he wondered to himself. “What is her story?”
She seemed annoyed at having been betrayed into showing such agitation. She took up the agreement he had brought and read it through, but he saw that her hands trembled so violently she could with difficulty hold the paper.
“What quaint names we both have, Mr. Eyrle,” she said, as she took up the pen to sign the paper; “mine is Juliet.”
“A beautiful name,” he replied; “one of Shakespeare’s sweetest and most gentle heroines. The very sound of it is to me like a strain of music.”