“Because, sir, I have nothing to say.”
“Nothing to say?”
“Nothing—nothing to say!”
“Listen to me, then. You seem to have some regard for your betrothed husband. You seem even to understand the duty you owe him! Think, I beg you, what must be the feelings of a proud and honorable man like Ralph Houston, on returning to this neighborhood and finding the name and fame of his affianced bride lightly canvassed?”
It was piteous to see how dark with woe her face became. Her hands were clenched until it seemed as though the blood must start from her finger nails; but not one word escaped her painfully-compressed lips.
“I ask you, Miss Helmstedt, when Ralph Houston returns to this neighborhood and hears what I and others have heard—what do you suppose he will do?”
“He will do his own good pleasure; and I—I shall submit,” said the maiden, meekly bowing her head.
But then in an instant—even as though she had heard Ralph’s voice in her ear—there was a change. Her beautiful head was raised, her color flushed brightly back, her dark eyes kindled, flashed, and she replied:
“He may hear, as you and others do, incredible things said of me; but he will not, as you and others do, believe them! And I only dread to think what his reply would be to any who should, in his presence, speak with levity of any woman he respects.”
“Margaret, pause—bethink you! this is no idle gossip! It is slander, do you hear? It is the venomed serpent slander that has fixed its fangs upon your maiden name. I believe, of course, unjustly! but nothing except an open explanation will enable your friends to exculpate you and silence your calumniators. Will you not give them such a weapon?”