Mary. Henry Douglas, you have spoken plainly, and you have spoken falsely. ’Tis true he who lies there loves me. I have read it in his pleading eyes; I have heard it in the delirium of fever from his lips. But he is as incapable of the meanness you would ascribe to him as you are of an honorable thought. Shame, shame! He has worked hard for an honest name. Poor fellow; ’tis all he has in the world!—and you, rich and powerful, seek to rob him of that.
Douglas. Mary!
Mary. Silence! I will not hear you. You have attacked the honor of a dear friend, dearer for the infirmity which has fallen upon him through the instrumentality of one of my name. ’Tis but right I should stand forth in his defence. Hear me. I asked you to release me from my promise; I gave you the reasons, good, true reasons, which would have convinced an honorable man. I have one more to give, which must convince you. I can never be your wife, for your attack has revealed something I hardly dreamed. I love Ned Hartshorn as I can never love another.
Douglas. Ha! The truth at last! There is no misunderstanding now. Your last reason has convinced me. Now hear one which must overpower yours, which must convince you that I will not be trifled with. Your brother Will and I parted company this morning.
Mary. Will and you! What mean you?
Douglas. Yesterday, being the first of the month, my book was returned to me from the Phœnix Bank, with the checks which I had drawn during the month. I say, which I had drawn. I’m wrong. There was one there for two hundred dollars, signed by a clever imitation of my name, of which I had no knowledge. It was a forgery.
Mary. A forgery! Well?
Douglas. Nay, ’twas very bad, for I found, upon investigation, it had been done by your brother.
Mary. Will? No, no; you do not suspect him.
Douglas. I know he forged that check. This morning I charged him with it. Of course he indignantly denied it. I informed him, quietly, that I had no further need of his services. He took his hat, and departed; and there the matter rests. Of course I might have called in an officer, and had him arrested; but, as he was in a fair way to become my brother-in-law, that would have been injudicious, to say the least.