The aunt saw that something was wrong; and her guilty conscience excited a thousand vague fears within her bosom; while the nephew felt convinced that the relative, whom he had hitherto loved and respected, was worthy only of his abhorrence and contempt.
There was a long pause in the conversation after the sisters had left the room; but at length the silence, so irksome to both nephew and aunt, was broken by the latter.
"Clarence—something appears to have vexed—to have annoyed you this morning," she observed, in a tremulous tone.
"Do you know," he said, turning abruptly round towards her, and fixing a searching glance upon her countenance, "that you act most unwisely—most indiscreetly—nay, most incorrectly, to expatiate so much upon the virtues of Sir Henry Courtenay? When I first entered the room this morning, I found Rosamond pensive and thoughtful; and she said not a word until that man's name was mentioned, when she became as it were enthusiastic in his defence, although no actual attack was made by me upon his character. What is the meaning of this strange conduct?"
"Clarence—if, in my respect for Sir Henry Courtenay—I have been too warm in my praises of his character,—if——"
"Aunt, there is no supposition in the case," interrupted Villiers, almost sternly. "You have been too warm—and heaven only knows with what object! God forbid that I should impute the worst motives to your conduct in this respect: but a dreadful suspicion has been excited in my mind——"
"A suspicion!" murmured Mrs. Slingsby faintly, while the glance which she threw upon her nephew was full of uneasiness.
"Yes—a suspicion!" he repeated; "and most painful—oh! most painful is it to me to be compelled to address you in this manner. But the case is too serious to allow me to remain silent. In one word, have you not made an impression on the mind of that artless girl which may endanger her peace?—have you not been encouraging in her breast an admiration for a man old enough to be her grandfather—an admiration which is not natural, and which is calculated to inspire her with feelings towards a sexagenarian dandy——"
"Clarence!" exclaimed the pious lady, in a hysterical manner; "how dare you address me in this dictatorial tone? Would you seek to invest my conduct in bestowing well-merited praise on a good man, with an aspect so black——"
"Your indignation is well feigned!" cried Villiers, his lips quivering with rage. "But the day of deception has passed—hypocrisy shall no longer impose upon me. If I accuse you unjustly, I will grovel as an abject wretch at your feet to manifest my contrition. Before I thus debase myself, however, you must prove to me that you are indeed the noble-minded—the open-hearted—the immaculate woman I have so long loved and revered! Tell me, then, the real—the true history of that night when a boy was received into this house through charity—a few years ago——"