"Not quite; all this might have been contrivance and art."
"How is it possible you can think so! Did you ever see the slightest trace of either in Ellen?"
"Yes, to-day. Why did she tell me Laura was going with her? Why conceal where she was going?"
"Laura lamented just now not having gone out with Ellen, as she requested on account of a bad head-ache: as to Ellen's not telling you where she was going, that arose from a fear lest you should prevent, what, with the natural impatience of youth, she had set her heart upon. But if you still doubt, let us inquire of this woman, this Mrs.——what's her name?—the mistress of the house where you lodged: she can tell what Lady St. Aubyn's errand was there, and why she alighted."
"Good God! Madam," said St. Aubyn, peevishly, "would you have me go about collecting evidences whether I ought to believe my wife blameless, or the most deceitful of women?"
"Yes I would," replied Lady Juliana, warmly, "if you can suspect her; if such modesty, such guileless sincerity, and purity of words and manners as I never before saw in woman, have no power to convince you: if you can set against them all this one unlucky accident, for I am sure it is no more, you ought to do every thing, seek every body who can give you information. Good God! to what purpose is it, as to this world, that a woman should lead the purest and most unspotted life, if one equivocal appearance can drive all confidence, all reliance, from the heart which ought to know her best!"
Touched by this generous warmth, St. Aubyn began to feel convinced he had gone too far: he knew how penetrating Lady Juliana was, how much she had been prejudiced against Ellen, and how cautiously she would have observed, ere she had given to her an affection and confidence so tender: he called to mind many "a proof of recollected love," of native modesty, of the strictest principles in his wife, and began deeply to repent his jealous rashness; but suddenly recollecting the note he had seen in her hands, and the haste with which she had concealed it, he hastily said:—"But the letter! What letter was that I found her reading?"
"What letter?" asked Lady Juliana.
"One I found her reading this morning, just before she went out; she seemed agitated, and had tears in her eyes, and as I entered, she put it into the fold of her morning dress."
"And there," said Lady Juliana, eagerly, "I found it, when we undressed her just now: I have not opened it; here it is." She drew it from her pocket. St. Aubyn recollected it to be the same, and opened it with trembling hands. It was, as has been stated, from the officer's widow to Jane, entreating her good offices with her lady, and describing her own distress, agreeing exactly with what Ellen and her maid had told Lady Juliana, and she had repeated to St. Aubyn. Such a corroboration of her story he could resist no longer; but shocked, alarmed, and ashamed, he hastily said: