‘Miss. Lord,—I will still address you by that name,—though for a very long time I have regarded you as a person worthy of all admiration, and have sincerely humbled myself before you, I cannot help thinking that a certain respect is due to me. Even though I find that you have deceived me as to your position, the old feelings are still so strong in me that I could not bear to give you needless pain. Instead of announcing to my father, and to other people, the strange facts which I have learnt, I come here as a friend,—I speak with all possible forbearance,—I do my utmost to spare you. Am I not justified in expecting at least courteous treatment?’
A pause of awful impressiveness. The listener, fully conscious at length of the situation she had to face, fell into a calmer mood. All was over. Suspense and the burden of falsehood had no longer to be endured. Her part now, for this hour at all events, was merely to stand by whilst Fate unfolded itself.
‘Please say whatever you have to say, Mr. Barmby,’ she replied with quiet civility. ‘I believe your intention was good. You made me nervous, that was all.’
‘Pray forgive me. Perhaps it will be best if I ask you a simple question. You will see that the position I hold under your father’s will leaves me no choice but to ask it. Is it true that you are married?’
‘I will answer if you tell me how you came to think that I was married.’
‘I have been credibly informed.’
‘By whom?’
‘You must forgive me. I can’t tell you the name.’
‘Then I can’t answer your question.’
Samuel mused. He was unwilling to break a distinct promise.