Howard avoided her pleading eyes, with painful delicacy.
“Indeed? He is well known among us, then? a man of position in Roseborough? Married, I presume, or there would be no necessity for this clandestine....”
Slowly she rose, staring at him, horrified. Until that moment, she had taken it for granted that only Mrs. Witherby interpreted the prince’s midnight advent as a scandal. She had supposed that Howard’s whole concern was to prevent the Roseborough gossip from misinterpreting an occurrence which he, as well as his cousin’s widow, knew to be innocent. By a word he had awakened her, and she realized that he, too, put the worst construction on the affair.
“Wilton! you can’t mean that you—that you who know me...! What are you thinking of me?” she demanded passionately.
He was unmoved by this outburst, which he had expected at an earlier stage of their interview; women always cried “insult,” when caught. He replied, coldly, avoiding her eyes, and picking his words with the care and delicate innuendo of a gentleman unfortunately compelled to discuss unseemly matters with a beautiful but obtuse young woman from the peasant sphere:
“I hope you will absolve me from trying to pry into your secrets from any personal motives. My sole aim is to protect your reputation, as far as possible after this indiscretion. The prominence of your position in Roseborough makes it doubly my duty—not only for your sake, but for the community. I can understand that a girl—young and beautiful but not rich—might have a friend—some childhood’s sweetheart—who still retained her affection, even after she had married prosperously and above her own station. I can understand that, once having been lifted to a position of importance, she might well hesitate to lose that elevation by marrying the early sweetheart, who has probably remained in his humble sphere—and yet, might yield to her affection for this individual. All that is natural. The thing I deplore is, that you should have been so thoughtless as to send for Dr. Wells. Mrs. Wells and Mrs. Witherby, between them, have notified everyone who possesses a telephone. And, in addition, we have the damning fact to get over, of one story about the gentleman’s identity told to the doctor and another told to the constable. Your friends naturally demand a convincing explanation of a very compromising situation.”
She strode toward him, as if she would have enjoyed walking over him and stamping on him, and almost shouted her repudiation of the whole hideous suggestion.
“Oh! this is an outrage! I never saw this man before in all my life!”
“What!” he exclaimed, in astonishment. He had thought himself prepared for any and all excuses, but the novelty of this one took him by surprise.
“Oh! Is this what you think of me in Roseborough? But, you’ll be punished for it—all of you—when the truth is known. You—you—oh! Well, I’ll tell you nothing. There! I never saw the man before. He came in here, like a tramp, and I fed him. I couldn’t tell that to Dr. Wells, or to the constable, could I? They wouldn’t have believed it!”