"He and I were once engaged. I broke it off when I found him out. After I married Mr. Jeffries I met Underwood again. Foolishly, I allowed the old intimacy to be renewed. He took advantage and preyed on my friends. I forbade him my house. He wrote me a letter in which he threatened to kill himself. I was afraid he meant it—I wanted to prevent him. I went to his rooms that night. I—didn't tell Mr. Jeffries. When the truth is known and I acknowledge that I visited this man—can you see what it means?—what a fuss there'll be? Everybody will put the worst construction on it——"
"Trust them for that!" said Annie grimly. She was sorry for the woman's distress, yet, being only human, she felt a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing her suffer a little of what she had been made to suffer.
"They'll say that I—God knows what they'll say!" went on Alicia distractedly. "My husband will be dragged through the mire of another public scandal—his social prestige will—oh, I dare not think of it—I know—I know—my duty is to that unfortunate boy. I mustn't think of myself."
"Have you the letter that Mr. Underwood wrote you?" demanded her companion.
"Yes—I've never been able to destroy it. I don't know why I kept it, but thank God I have it!" Moaning, she went on:
"The disgrace!—the disgrace!—it's ruin!—degradation! It's the end of everything!—the end of everything!"
Annie regarded with contempt this poor, weak, wailing creature who lacked the moral courage to do what was merely right. Yet her voice was not unkind as she said:
"I don't want to disgrace you—or ruin you. But what am I to do—tell me, what am I to do?"
"I don't know," moaned her companion helplessly.
"Howard must be saved."