Nor could Violet venture to delay. It was better that such tidings should come from sympathizing lips than through the gossip of the neighbourhood; and Theodora ought to be aware of them as soon as possible, that she might no longer cherish the shade of her affection. Alas! that he should have done this at the very moment when she had truly become worthy of him, or, at least, of what he had once been!
At night, when Theodora came to linger over her fire, the intelligence was reluctantly and hesitatingly spoken; Violet’s eyes were bent down, for she knew how little that spirit could brook that its suffering should be marked.
Theodora stood up before her, at her full height, with flashing eye and indignant voice: ‘Do you think I believe it? No, indeed! I may have lost him for ever, but he would never lose himself. I scorn this as I did Jane Gardner’s own story that you were going to marry him to your sister. I knew you both too well.’
Violet put her arm round Theodora. ‘Dearest, I am the more afraid that we must believe this, because he was not always constant. He did think of Annette.’
‘Think of her! What do you mean! Did he make her an offer!’
‘Yes. I would never have told you if I did not think it might help you in this.’
‘I don’t want help,’ said Theodora, raising her head and turning from Violet. ‘Let him do as he likes.’
But, ere she had made two steps towards the door, her breast heaved with a convulsive sob. She threw herself on the ground, and rested her face on Violet’s lap. The sobs came at long intervals, with a tight, oppressed sound. Much alarmed, Violet caressed her, and tried to soothe her with gentle words, and at last they unlocked her lips.
‘It is not myself! Oh, no! I knew I had forfeited him long ago. I had proved myself unworthy. I had no right to hope. But that he should have changed—let his clear sense be blinded by her art! He, to whom I could have looked up all my life!—who was so noble in rejecting me!’
The large drops had gathered and flowed, seeming to scald their course down her cheeks. ‘O Violet! I wish your sister had married him! Then he would have been happy—he would not have degraded himself. Oh! what change can have come over him?’