For a minute his courage gave way utterly, and he buried his face in his hands, and trembled from head to foot with the effort he made to command himself.
CHAPTER XXIV.
A COTTAGE BY THE SEA.
All Mr. Large’s sympathies had been with Lady Gwendolyn at starting; but now he began to think there might possibly be another side to the question. He knew Lady Gwendolyn was naturally impulsive—and legal men generally look upon impulsiveness as a fault, or, at best, an inconvenient quality which stands in the way of anything like calm, dispassionate judgment. Of course she had seen and heard something, since she said so; but then “trifles light as air are, to the jealous, confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ,” and a person who jumps to conclusions is not to be trusted in any way.
He felt for this girl more than a lawyer’s interest in his client, for he had known her since she was a child. He could not bear that she should throw away her happiness, and, therefore, when Sir Lawrence said:
“If I write a letter to my wife, explaining matters fully, will you forward it to her as soon as you know her address, Mr. Large?”
He answered readily:
“With great pleasure, Sir Lawrence. She did not forbid me to do that.”
“Then I won’t detain you any longer just now,” said Sir Lawrence. “I am exceedingly obliged to you for befriending me, Mr. Large,” he added, with a sad smile; “and I do assure you, on my honor as a gentleman, that I am perfectly guiltless of any offense toward my wife. Where I have sinned is against Heaven, in setting myself up an earthly idol, and for this I am being punished deservedly now.”
His tone was one of deep emotion and unmistakable sincerity. Mr. Large could not help saying: