‘How glad I am!’ said the soft voice, ever ready to rejoice with her. ‘Somehow, I had never recollected it, he is so like what he used to be. I am very glad.’
‘Don’t treat it as if it was to concern me,’ said Theodora. ‘I care only as he remains the noblest of men.’
‘That he is.’
‘Don’t wish any more, nor think I do,’ said Theodora. ‘I never liked stories of young ladies who reform on having the small-pox. It is time nonsense should be out of my head when a man does not know me again.’
‘Oh! surely—did he not?’
‘Not till I spoke. No wonder, and it is better it should be so. I am unworthy any way. O, Violet, now will you not let me ask your forgiveness?’
‘What do you mean, dearest?’
‘Those races.’
Violet did not shrink from the mention; she kissed Theodora’s brow, while the tears, reserved for the time of respite, dropped fast and bright.
‘Poor dear,’ she said; ‘how much you have suffered!’