“You played your part splendidly, I must own.”
“Of course! for I had a good deal at stake. It was necessary for my peace of mind to discover the skeleton in your cupboard.”
“And you succeeded?” he inquired, with suppressed eagerness; his lips whitening as the words passed through them.
“Yes, I did. With all my faults, I would never have searched your place, of that you may be sure; but there was no need, the revelation I sought was thrust upon me.”
“Ah!”
And though there was the gloom of an abiding sorrow in his eyes, there was no shame nor shrinking—excepting so far as we all shrink when a deep wound is probed.
“I suppose it was the intervention of Providence,” Lady Gwendolyn went on. “If you had asked me to marry you an hour before I should have accepted you without hesitation, whereas, it was not even right for us to be friends.”
“You forget that you have explained nothing yet,” he said hoarsely. “And yet, this suspense is very cruel.”
“I do not mean to be cruel,” she said. “I can assure you I have suffered too much myself to take pleasure in another person’s pain; but I am reluctant to recall that most miserable half-hour I passed at Borton Hall. I entered it so full of hope; I left it feeling as if I had nothing to look forward to in the world, since you, whom I had trusted and loved, were false.”
“Or, rather, you fancied so.”