“Well, love? What has all this got to do with your telling the baroness your story?” inquired Hereward, with a smile.
“Everything! You shall hear. This old man, who loved without self-love, discovered that his fair betrothed was very unhappy, and pressed her for the reason. That she should have a sorrow that he could not comfort, with all his wealth and power, seemed as wonderful as it was insupportable! He pressed her for her confidence, and she gave it to him—told him—well, she told him, in effect, that she would rather marry Mr. Tudor Hereward than Herr Bruyin. And he released her from her engagement to himself, and promised to win over her father to consent to her marriage with you. When you returned to Washington, she sought you out and offered the hand that she had once refused. But you, being then married, could not accept it. Tudor! were you sorry?”
“I am not sorry now, dearest, at all events,” he answered, drawing the little figure closer to his side.
“Of course, sorrow, disappointment and humiliation preyed upon the spoiled beauty. Your marriage with me was announced, and Herr Bruyin, who was still watching over his darling, knew then the threefold cause of her anguish. He went to her and reminded her that their marriage had been announced some weeks before, and that the announcement had not been contradicted, and he proposed to her to let their betrothal stand; to marry at the appointed time; to go with him to Europe; and, in the grand tour and at the great capitals, where she would be welcomed and fêted, to forget the disappointments she had experienced here. She followed his counsel, and they were married and went abroad. I tell you this, Tudor, that you may be just to her; for now you see that she was not a double-dealer; she was not deceitful; she was perfectly frank with you and with her old betrothed, from first to last.”
“Then I have wronged her in my judgment. And it begins to seem to me that I am rather given to wronging people, eh, Lilith?”
“No, you are not. You have been misled by false appearances, which were nobody’s fault.”
“You, at least, are very charitable, Lilith. But go on, dear.”
“You know, I suppose, that Herr Bruyin received his title soon after his arrival in his native city, and that he survived the event but a few months, and that Herr Von Kirschberg died about the same time?”
“Yes, I heard that.”
“Madame Von Bruyin, bereft of husband and father, returned to New York early in April. In May she advertised for a companion. I applied for the situation, pleased madame, and was accepted, as I told you. She knew me only as Mrs. Wyvil and believed me to be a widow. She grew very fond of me——”