“Great Heaven! had another but yourself made that charge!” she exclaimed, in a voice deep and smothered with intense emotion.
“The deception of which you stand convicted is in itself dishonor, and no very great way from deeper dishonor! You need not look so shocked, madam, (though that may be acting also.) Come, exculpate yourself!” he said, fiercely, giving vent to the storm of jealous fury that had been gathering for hours in his breast.
But his wife gazed upon him with the look of one thunder-stricken, as she replied:
“Oh, doubtless, Mr. Helmstedt, you have the right to do what you will with your own, even to the extremity of thus degrading her.”
“No sarcasms, if you please, madam; they ill become your present ambiguous position. Rather clear yourself. Come, do it; for if I find that you have brought shame——”
“Philip!”
Without regarding her indignant interruption, he went on:
“Upon the honorable name you bear—by the living Lord that hears me! I will take justice in my own hands and—kill you!”
She had continued to gaze upon him with her great, dark eyes, standing forth like burning stars until the last terrible words fell from his lips—when, dropping her eyelids, her face relaxed into a most dubious and mournful smile, as she said:
“That were an easier feat than you imagine, Philip. The heart burns too fiercely in this breast to burn long. Your words add fuel to the flame. But in this implied charge upon your wife, the injustice that you do her, is nothing compared to the great wrong you inflict upon your own honor.”