"You can see, then, how anything affecting her will equally affect me. Belle has been gently nurtured; she is a proud, high-spirited, intrepid girl, but of a delicate organism that would break beneath the shock of Royal Maillot being stigmatized by such a crime. I tremble to think of it!"
Her look was again bent upon me, with utmost gravity now, and her voice broke a little as she concluded:
"Can you comprehend my anxiety, Mr. Swift? Can't you see that I would make any sacrifice to forestall such a dreadful chance?"
In spite of her reserved nature and admirable habit of self-control, it was easy to see that she was deeply affected; she was, indeed, torn by conflicting doubts and anxieties; and I became meditative and, for her sake, exceedingly desirous of lightening the burden of her worry.
That very beautiful and very wilful young lady, her cousin, would never have made such an appeal to me. I did not care to conjecture the way in which she, long before this stage of the conversation, would have been expressing her indignation and withering me with her scorn and contempt.
"Miss Cooper," said I at length, "assume for just a moment that Mr. Maillot is guilty: would you counsel me, for the reasons you have stated, to turn aside from my duty and permit him to go unpunished?"
She caught her breath sharply. Her lips went suddenly white, and her look became a trifle wild. I watched her keenly.
"Mr. Swift!" she presently whispered, in dismay. "How unfair!"
"I do not mean to be unfair," I tried to make clear; but she cut me short.
"Are you trying to prepare me for—for the worst?"