"No, I did not mean to do so, but I was careless whether she suffered or not. I thought only of myself—my own vanity, my own amusement. Nothing can change that, and so I have always felt that it was right I should suffer just as I made her suffer. Retribution came very quickly, Claire."
"Did it?" asked Claire. Her soft, gray eyes were full of unspoken sympathy. "Well, suffering is a great thing, dear; it enables us to expiate so much! Tell me about yours—if you like."
"I feel as if I had come here just to tell you," said Marion. And then followed the story of her engagement to Brian Earle, her anger because he would not comply with his uncle's wishes, their parting, her unexpected inheritance of Mr. Singleton's fortune, Rathborne's revenge in finding the lost heir, her surrender of the fortune to him, and her rejection of his suit.
"So here I am," she observed in conclusion, with a faint smile, "like one who has passed through terrible storms: who has been shipwrecked and has barely escaped with life—that is, with a fragment of self-respect. I am so glad I had strength to give up that fortune, Claire! You know how I always desired wealth."
"I know so well," said Claire, "that I am proud of you—proud that you had the courage to do what must have cost you so much. But I always told you that I knew you better than you knew yourself; and I was sure that you would never do anything unworthy, not even to gain the end you had so much at heart. But, Marion"—her face grew grave,—"I have something to tell you that I fear may prove unpleasant to you. Brian Earle is here."
"Brian Earle here!" repeated Marion. She became very pale, and for a moment was silent. Then she said, proudly, "I hope no one will imagine that I suspected this. I thought he was in Germany. But it will not be necessary for me to meet him."
"That must be for you to decide," said Claire, in a somewhat troubled tone. "He comes to see us occasionally—he is an old friend of Mrs. Kerr's—but, if you desire it, I will ask her to let him know that it will be best for him to discontinue his visits."
"No," said Marion, with quick, instinctive recoil; "for that would be to acknowledge that I shrink from seeing him. If I do shrink, he shall not be made aware of it. Perhaps, when he knows that I am here, he will desire to keep away. If not, I am—I will be strong enough to meet him with indifference."
Claire looked at her steadily, wistfully; it seemed as if she were trying to know all that might be known. "If you do not feel indifference," she said, gently, after a moment, "is it well to simulate it?"
"How can you ask such a question?" demanded Marion, with a touch of her old haughtiness. "It is not only well—it is essential to my self-respect. But I do not acknowledge that it will be simulation. Why should I be other than indifferent to Brian Earle? As I confessed to you a few minutes ago, I suffered when we parted, but that is over now."