‘Disgrace you? How can you think it for a moment? I would sooner disgrace myself. But how could I do it, Nell? What can you have ever done to make you speak like that?’
‘I’ve done what the worst woman you’ve ever met has done. Hugh, you have forced the truth from me. Don’t blame me if it hurts you. I am not a good girl, like Hetty, or Sarah Kingston, or Rachel Grove. I’m not fit to speak to any one of them. I have no right to be at Panty-cuckoo Farm. If father knew all, perhaps he’d turn me out again. I—I—have fallen, Hugh! and now you know the worst!’
The worst seemed very bad for him to know. As the terrible confession left her, he turned his dark, thoughtful face aside, and bit his lips till the blood came, but he did not say a word. Nell had told him the bitter truth almost defiantly, but the utter silence by which it was succeeded did not please her. What right had this man, who had worried her into saying what she never said to any other creature, to sit there and upbraid her by his silence? She felt as if she wanted to shake him.
‘Speak, speak!’ she cried at last, impatiently. ‘Say what you like; call me all the bad names you have ever heard applied in such cases, but say something, for goodness’ sake. Have you never heard of such a thing before? Have none of the girls in Usk ever made a false step in their lives? Don’t sit there as if the news had turned you to stone, or you will drive me mad!’
Then he raised his white, strained face, and confronted her,—
‘My poor, dear girl!’ he said, ‘who am I, that I should condemn you? I am far too conscious of my own besetting sins. But how did this awful misfortune happen? Who was the man? Has he deserted you? Won’t you tell me, Nell?’
‘It happened soon after I went to London,’ she answered, in a more subdued voice. ‘I was very young at the time, you know, Hugh, and very ignorant of the world and the world’s ways. He—he—was a gentleman, and I loved him, and he persuaded me. That is the whole story, but it has broken my heart.’
‘But where is this “gentleman” now? Cannot he be induced to make you reparation?’ asked Hugh, with set teeth.
‘Reparation! What reparation can he make? Do you mean marriage? What gentleman would marry a poor girl like me—a common farmer’s daughter? And if it were likely, do you suppose that I would stoop to become the wife of a man who did not want to marry me—who did so on compulsion? You don’t know me, Hugh.’
‘But, Nell, my dear Nell, do you mean to tell me that this inhuman brute seduced you, and then deserted you? What have you been doing since, Nell? Where have you been living? I thought you came here from service at the Earl of Ilfracombe’s?’