“Such concealment was necessary. My uncle was a man of rough and hasty temper, ill-judging and merciless.”
“But,” she said, with a sudden eagerness, and a slight shudder, “he—he is dead now, Stephen. There is no need for further concealment.”
“Softly, softly, dear Laura. We must be patient—must keep our little secret a little while longer. I can trust my darling to confide in me—yes, yes, I know that——”
“Stephen, to-night for the first time—why, I know not—I have doubted—no, not doubted, for I have fought hard against the suspicion that I was wrong to trust you.”
“My dearest!” he murmured reproachfully.
“You were wrong to leave me for so long without a word—you put my love to too severe a test. I—I cannot say whether it has stood it or not. To-night I am full of doubt. Stephen—look at me!”
He turned his face and looked down. He had not far to look, for she was tall, and in the moment of excitement had drawn herself to her full height. The moon, sailing from amongst the clouds, shone on her upturned face; her lips were set, and the dark eyes gleamed from the white face.
“Look at me, Stephen. If—I say if—there is the faintest idea of treachery lurking in your mind——”
“My dearest——”
“Cast it out! Here, to-night, I warn you to cast it out! Such love as mine is like a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways, for love—or hate! Stephen, I have loved, I have trusted you—for mine, for your own sake, be true to me!”