"But why promise you, who——"
"Promise it. I am very, very anxious, for your own sake and for mine."
"I promise—I promise faithfully."
"Whatever happens?"
"Yes—whatever happens!"
"I will tell you why now. In the first place, I have found out that the world will never accept your statement, but believe the very worst of you."
Harriet shuddered; her own trustfulness in others—her vanity, perhaps, allied thereto—had led her to the verge of the abyss—and "miraculous escapes" are only for penny-a-liners, and romancists. She thought that Mattie was right in binding her solemnly to secrecy, and she repeated her promise even more solemnly than before.
"And in the second place——"
Mattie paused; she recoiled from the explanation, the trial of another parting with this girl for whose happiness she was about to sacrifice herself, and the good name for which she had struggled. Harriet looked ill and worn now, and she could not tell her all the news, her heart was too full.
"I would bathe my hands and face, and go down-stairs as soon as possible. It will prevent suspicion, and you must stand up against the fatigue for awhile."