“She didn't, now,” said Alfred; “it was I kissed her.”
“And yet you pretend to love your Julia so truly?”
“This is no place for that sacred name, madam. But be sure I have no secrets from her, and kiss nobody she would not kiss herself.”
“She must be a very accommodating young lady.”
At this insult Alfred rose pale with anger, and was about to defy his monitor mortally; but the quick-witted woman saw and disarmed him. In one moment, before ever he could speak, she was a transformed creature, a penitent; she put her hands together supplicatingly, and murmured—
“I didn't mean it; I respect her; and your love for her; forgive me, Alfred: I am so unhappy, oh forgive me.”
And behold she held his hand between her soft, burning palms, and her proud head sank languidly on his shoulder, and the inevitable tears ran gently.
Morals apart, it was glorious love-making.
“Bother the woman,” thought Alfred.
“Promise me not to do it again,” she murmured, “and the girl shall stay.”