"By ... there, I may as well tell you; you must soon hear it ... by gambling."
A shudder of disgust ran over her frame.
"Are you sure—quite sure of this?"
"Quite: I had it from a man who plays nightly at the same table with him."
"How horrible! isn't it?"
"No," he replied, with a sardonic smile: "it's genius."
She looked at him astonished: at that moment, she hated him. Well would it have been for her if she had taken the warning of that moment, and flung from her the viper that was crawling to her heart. But she forgot it. Maxwell's smile passed away, and was replaced by one of tenderness for her.
Rose and her mother were both thoughtful as they rode home that night.
The next day, Rose communicated to her father what Cecil had said at Dr. Whiston's, and begged him to write to Cecil, and announce his forgiveness. Vyner, who would have been well pleased to do so, spoke with his wife about it.
"He is a credit to us now," added Vyner.