I felt almost indignant at the idea; and my indignation became hot rage as she went on.
“John Lister has asked me again to be his wife.”
“The scoundrel! the villain!” I exclaimed.
“Hush, Antony,” she said quietly, as she laid her thin white fingers upon my lips. “He says that he has bitterly repented the past; that he is a changed man, and he begs me not to blight the whole of his life.”
“You? Blight his life!” I exclaimed hotly. “He has blighted yours.”
She did not speak for a few moments, and then she startled me by her words.
“He is coming here to-day to ask for my answer from my lips. He begged that I would not write, but that I would see him, and let him learn his fate from me.”
“But you surely will not see him?” I exclaimed.
“I have told him that I will. He will be here, Antony, almost directly.”
I was for the moment stunned, and could do nothing but gaze helplessly in Miss Carr’s face, for the question kept asking itself, “Will she accept him?” and it seemed to me like an insult to the dead.