“A shock that was without the least blame to you, my darling wife; so that when I recovered from it I told your father that you were in my eyes a blameless widow, and that I should be the proudest and happiest man alive if I could be blessed with your love and honored with your hand.”
“Oh, Abel! Generous soul!”
“He then told me where the difficulty lay—that you imagined yourself so—so—well, so injured by the wrong which had been done you—or which you believed had been done you—that you could never bring yourself either to reveal it to me, or to marry me without having revealed it.”
“No, I could not—I could have died, or lived in misery sooner.”
“So your father told me. But I was a young man, in love, my dearest, and therefore ready with expedients. I said to the earl:
“‘I see a way out of all this.’
“He replied:
“‘Tell me, for I see none.’
“I answered:
“‘You have told me these antecedents, and your most fastidious sense of honor is satisfied. I know the secret, and still pray for the honor of your daughter’s hand, as I believe I have already the blessing of her love. Pray go, therefore, to your daughter, ask her if she considers you a man of honor and integrity worthy of her trust. Of course, she will earnestly, and with wonder and indignation at such a question, assure you that she does. You will then please tell her of my renewed proposals and assure her, in turn, that on your honor as a peer, and your faith as a Christian, she may accept my hand without revealing her secret, and without detriment to her conscience.’