“What can I say but the truth?” answered Temple, gloomily.
“But surely you will not,” and she went nearer to him and laid her hand on his arm, and raised her dark eyes to his face; “you will not tell him—of your other marriage?”
“I must,” said Temple, hoarsely; “how otherwise could I account for—what he must know?”
“But consider—he may be violent—a hundred things may happen. John, I would not tell him that—say that you quarreled, and that she left you—anything but that.”
John Temple hesitated, and Mrs. Temple saw this in an instant.
“Take my advice, at least about this,” she went on eagerly. “Telling him could do no good, and might bring much harm. Just say you quarreled—say about another woman, if you like—and that then she left you, and that you have never seen or heard of her since. I do not think as you do about it; she probably did only leave you, and some day you may hear more.”
“If you think this—”
“I do, John Temple; you can not tell what this man might do if he knew the whole story. Leave it to time at least, and say nothing rash.”
“I meant to tell him everything.”