“Yes, Alick thought so, but she had such good reasons, I am sure she believed them herself.”
“If she had not believed them, she could not have had such perfect sincerity of manner,” said the Colonel; “she must have persuaded at least one half of herself that she was acting for every one’s good except her own.”
“And Mr. Clare, whom Alick always thought she neglected, never felt it. Alick says he was too unselfish to claim attention.”
“I never doubted her for one moment till I came home, on that unhappy day, and found how ill Keith was. I did think then, that considering how much she had seen of Alick while the splinters were working out, she ought to have known better than to talk of sciatica; but she made me quite believe in her extreme anxiety, and that she was only going out because it was necessary for her to take care of you on your first appearance. How bright she looked, and how little I thought I should never see her again!”
“Oh, she meant what she said! She always was kind to me! Most kind!” repeated Rachel; “so considerate about all the dreadful spring—not one word did she say to vex me about the past! I am sure she did go out on that day as much to shelter me as for anything else. I can’t bear to think all this—here in this pretty room that she had such pleasure in; where she made me so welcome, after all my disagreeableness and foolishness.”
The Colonel could almost have said, “Better such foolishness than such wisdom, such repulsion than such attraction.” He was much struck by Rachel’s distress, and the absence of all female spite and triumph, made him understand Ermine’s defence of her as really large-minded and generous.
“It is a very sad moment to be undeceived,” he said; “one would rather have one’s faults come to light in one’s life than afterwards.”
They were simple words, so simple that the terrible truth with which they were connected, did not come upon Rachel at the first moment; but as if to veil her agitation, she drew towards her a book, an ivory-bound Prayer-book, full of illuminations, of Bessie’s own doing, and her eye fell upon the awful verse, “So long as thou doest well unto thyself, men will speak good of thee.” It was almost more than Rachel could bear, sitting in the midst of the hoards, for which poor Bessie had sold herself. She rose up, with a sob of oppressive grief, and broke out, “Oh! at least it is a comfort that Alick was really the kindest and rightest! Only too right! but you can settle all this without him,” she added imploringly; “need he know of this? I can’t bear that he should.”
“Nor I,” said Colonel Keith, “it was the reason that I am glad you are here alone.”
“Oh, thank you! No one need ever know,” added Rachel.