“Yes, that will do you good; it's the old thirty-four. I took it out in honor of Lendrick, but he is a water-drinker. I 'm sure I wish Beattie were. I grudged the rascal every glass of that glorious claret which he threw down with such gusto, telling me the while that it was infinitely finer than when he last tasted it.”
“I feel better now, but I want rest and sleep. You can wait for all I have to tell you till to-morrow,—can't you?”
“If I must, there 's no help for it; but considering that my whole future in a measure hangs upon it, I 'd rather hear it now.”
“I am well nigh worn out,” said she, plaintively; and she held out her glass to be filled once more; “but I 'll try and tell you.”
Supporting her head on both her hands, and with her eyes half closed, she went on in a low monotonous tone, like that of one reading from a book: “We met at the station, and had but a few minutes to confer together. I told him I had been at his house; that I came to see him, and ask his assistance; that you had got into trouble, and would have to leave the country, and were without means to go. He seemed, I thought, to be aware of all this, and asked me, 'Was it only now that I had learned or knew of this necessity?' He also asked if it were at your instance, and by your wish, that I had come to him? I said, Yes; you had sent me.” Sewell started as if something sharp had pierced him, and she went on: “There was nothing for it but the truth; and, besides, I know him well, and if he had once detected me in an attempt to deceive him, he would not have forgiven it. He then said, 'It is not to the wife I will speak harshly of the husband, but what assurance have I that he will go out of the country?' I said, 'You had no choice between that and jail. 'He nodded assent, and muttered, 'A jail—and worse; and you,' said he, 'what is to become of you?' I told him 'I did not know; that perhaps Lady Lendrick would take me and the children.'”
“He did not offer you a home with himself?” said Sewell, with a diabolical grin.
“No,” said she, calmly; “but he objected to our being separated. He said that it was to sacrifice our children, and we had no right to do this; and that, come what might, we ought to live together. He spoke much on this, and asked me more than once if our hard-bought experiences had not taught us to be more patient, more forgiving towards each other.”
“I hope you told him that I was a miracle of tolerance, and that I bore with a saintly submission what more irritable mortals were wont to go half mad about,—did you tell him this?”
“Yes; I said you had a very practical way of dealing with life, and never resented an unprofitable insult.”
“How safe a man's honor always is in a good wife's keeping!” said he, with a savage laugh. “I hope your candor encouraged him to more frankness; he must have felt at ease after that?”