And the Countess of Hurstmonceux sank back in her chair, covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.
Hannah felt very uncomfortable; her conscience reproached her; she was self-implicated in a deception; and this to one of her integrity of character was very painful. Literally, she had spoken the truth; but the countess had drawn false inferences and deceived herself; and she could not undeceive her without breaking her oath to Nora and betraying Herman Brudenell.
Then she pitied that beautiful, pale woman who was weeping so violently. And she arose and poured out the last of poor Nora's bottle of wine and brought it to her, saying:
"Drink this, my lady, and try and compose yourself."
Berenice drank the wine and thanked the woman, and then said:
"I was very wrong to take up such fancies as I did; but then, you do not know how strong the circumstances were that led me to such fancies. I am glad and sorry and ashamed, all at once, Hannah! Glad to find my own and my mother-in-law's suspicions all unfounded; sorry that I ever entertained them against my dear husband; and ashamed—oh, how much ashamed—that I ever betrayed them to anyone."
"You were seeking to do him a service, my lady, when you did so," said Hannah remorsefully and compassionately.
"Yes, indeed I was! And then I was not quite myself! Oh, I have suffered so much in my short life, Hannah! And I met such a cruel disappointment on my arrival here! But there! I am talking too much again! Hannah, I entreat you to forget all that I have said to you. And if you cannot forget it, I implore you most earnestly never to repeat it to anyone."
"I will not indeed, madam."
The Countess of Hurstmonceux arose and walked to the bed, turned down the shawl that covered the sleeping child, and gazed pitifully upon him. Hannah did not now seek to prevent her.