'That time!' he said, musing. 'Did you ever think I used you wrongly?' he suddenly added.
'I never did. I knew the difference between myself and Alda.'
'Nay, let me tell you, I never should have seen how beautiful she was, unless—I suppose it wasn't true, now—'
'What wasn't true?'
'That you and Felix—'
'Felix! No indeed! He is far too independent and disinterested. Who could have told you? You won't say? Not Edgar?'
'No. It was that poor lady herself.'
'Well,' said Marilda, infinitely shocked, 'I do call that wicked!' and as her mind glanced back to all the pain of those two years, she added, 'What did she say? Don't mind telling me. I'm old enough now.'
'Are you?' he said, with a quick glance of his dark eyes that made her glow again, and he continued: 'She gave me to understand that there was an old inclination between you and him, and that your father had such a regard for him as to be likely to yield if nothing more advantageous came in his way.'
'If you had only asked poor Edgar! Well! perhaps she flattered herself it was so! Yet, what could have put it into her head.'