‘How can there be? He is married; that is why I am here. For three years I was the happiest woman under the sun. He is a rich man, and he gave me more than I ever desired; not that I cared for anything in comparison with his love. Ah, if he had only left me that, I would have begged in the streets by his side and been happy. But it all came to an end. He had gone away for a little while, and I had not the least idea that he was not coming back again. I was only longing and hoping for his return; and then one day his lawyer called to tell me that my darling—I mean that he was going to marry some lady, and I could be nothing ever to him again. Hugh, it drove me mad. I didn’t know what I was doing. I rushed out of the house and threw myself into the river.’
‘Merciful God!’ exclaimed the young man, losing all control over himself.
‘I did. Father and mother think I left service in a regular way; but they don’t know in London where I’m gone. They never saw me again. I daresay they think I’m drowned. Was it very wicked, Hugh? I did so long to die. Isn’t it funny that, first, I should have thrown myself into the water and been picked out again, and then had this bad illness, and still I can’t die? Why won’t God let me end it all?’
‘Because He designs you for better things, my poor Nell,’ said her companion.
‘I don’t think so. Better things are not in my way. I believe I shall die a violent death after all. I remember some time ago—ah! it was the races he took me to—a gipsy told my fortune, and she said the same thing, that I should come to a violent end. It little matters to me, so long as it gives me forgetfulness and rest.
‘You mustn’t talk like that,’ said Hugh, reprovingly. ‘We must all die in God’s time, and it is our duty to wait for it. But do you mean to say that this man has cast you off without a thought, Nell?’
‘Oh, no! he offered, or his lawyer did, to settle money on me, but I would not take it. What did I want with money without him?’
‘You did right to refuse it. Money coming from such a source could have brought no blessing with it. But surely you do not lament the loss of this scoundrel who, not content with betraying you, has left you in this heartless manner for another woman?’
But no true woman ever let another man abuse her lover, however guilty he might be, without resenting it. Least of all women was Nell Llewellyn likely to stand such a thing.
‘How dare you call him by such a name?’ she cried angrily. ‘Whatever he may have done, it is not your place to resent it. I am nothing to you. He is not a scoundrel. There never was a more honourable, kind-hearted, generous creature born. He would never have deserted me if it had not been for his lawyer, who was always dinning into his ears that with such a property it was his duty to marry. And the woman, too, whom he has married—she inveigled him into it. I know she did. Oh, Hugh, if I could only kill her how happy I should be. If I could be in the same room with her for five minutes, with a knife in my hand, and stab her with it to the very heart, and see her die—die—with pain and anguish as she has made my heart die, I think I should be happy.’