"There were reasons why she did not," said Marion. She hesitated a moment, and then an impulse of candor came to her,—a quick instinct that Earle must hear from herself the story which he had perhaps already heard from others. "I will tell you what they were," she continued. "It is a matter which it is disagreeable to me to recall, but I should like to tell you about it."
Then she told him. There is everything, as we know, in the point of view from which a picture is regarded, or a story is told; so it was not surprising that, as he listened, Earle felt a sense of infinite relief. If this were all, she was not indeed altogether free from blame—for she acknowledged that she had taken pleasure in the perception of Rathborne's admiration,—but certainly she did not deserve that charge of duplicity which the priest had made. It was an unfortunate affair; but, feeling the power which she exercised over himself, how could he wonder that another man had felt and yielded to it?
So, for the time at least, all his doubt was dissipated, and Marion, satisfied with this result, deferred the decisive struggle yet to come.
CHAPTER XIX.
But it was not to be long deferred—that decisive struggle which Marion clearly foresaw, and from which she shrank, notwithstanding Mr. Singleton's confident assurance of her victory. It was a day or two later that Earle said to her:—
"Since I am going away soon, Marion, it will be well that we shall settle all details of our future. Can you not make an effort and go with me? What need is there, in our case, for long waiting, or for submitting to a separation which would be very painful?"
The confident assurance of his tone—as if dealing with a point settled beyond all need of argument—made Marion's heart sink a little, but she nerved herself to the necessary degree of resolution, and answered, quietly:—
"There will be no need for long waiting or for separation either, if you will only consent to do what your uncle asks—to remain with him, and fulfil the duty which most plainly lies before you." She paused a moment, then added, in a softer tone, "You have refused to yield to his request, will you not yield to mine?"
Earle looked at her with eyes full of pained surprise. "Et tu Brute!" he said, with a faint smile. "I thought you, at least, understood how firmly my mind is made up on that subject—how impossible it is for me to resign all my cherished plans of life for the sake of inheriting my uncle's fortune."