‘So I did.’
‘And you were with him for three years?’
‘I was,’ replied Nell, who felt as if her secret were being drawn from her, bit by bit.
‘Then you had a shelter and a home. Oh, Nell, do you mean to tell me that you did this thing of your own free will, knowing that it could not last, nor end lawfully? When you had a refuge and an honourable service, did you still consent to live in concubinage with this gentleman—knowing he only kept you as a toy which he could get rid of whenever the whim suited him?’
‘I did!’ she cried defiantly, ‘if you will have the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth—there it is. I loved him, and I lived with him of my free consent. It was my heaven to live with him. I never regretted it. I only regretted when it came to an end.’
‘Oh, Nell,’ he said, ‘I thought higher of you than that.’
His evident misery touched her.
‘Hugh, how can I make you understand?’ she cried. ‘I believed it was for ever. I knew we could never be married, because he was so much above me; but I thought—he told me—that we should never part. I considered myself his wife, I did indeed; and when I was undeceived it nearly killed me.’
And, breaking down for the first time, Nell burst into tears.
‘There, there, don’t cry,’ said Hugh, wearily. ‘Remember, your mother might come in at any moment, and ask the reason of your tears. Try and restrain yourself. Your sad secret is safe with me, rely on that. Only—only let us consider, is there really no remedy for your trouble?’