She was silent, and I looked in her face, and saw the tears streaming down it.
‘My dear girl,’ I said, placing my hand on her shoulder, ‘don’t think me unkind. I have guessed somewhat of your history, and I feel for you—oh, so deeply. Confide in me; my husband is a man of influence, and I may be of use to you. I see that you are superior to the position you hold, and I have conceived an interest in you. Don’t keep your sorrows locked in your own breast, or they will eat out your very heart and life.’
As I spoke she began to sob piteously.
‘You are not doing right by this poor little baby, nor his parents,’ I continued, ‘by brooding over a silent grief. You will injure his health, when perhaps if you will tell us all, we may be able to comfort you.’
‘No one can comfort me, madam! I am beyond all relief.’
‘No one dare say that in this world, which God rules according to His will. You cannot tell what solace He may hold in the future for you.’
‘I have no future,’ she said sadly. ‘If you think I am likely to injure this little one,’ pressing it tightly to her bosom, ‘I am very, very sorry; but to have something to love and care for, seemed to be the only thing to prevent my going mad.’
‘Mrs Graham, I don’t wish to be impertinently curious, but I want to hear your story. Won’t you tell it to me?’
‘If you do, you will hate me—as I hate myself.’