“Proceed, dearest,” said the Marquis, who all this while had one of his wife’s hands locked in his own.
“Summoning all my courage to my aid,” she resumed, “I resolved on presenting myself at your abode. I arrived—I sent up the letter by your valet: but in a few minutes he came rushing down the stairs with a countenance that had horror depicted in every lineament. I shall not however dwell upon this portion of my adventure. You may probably conjecture how dreadful was my alarm—how great my grief, when I learnt from the broken sentences in which the man spoke, the frightful intelligence of the condition in which he had found you. Then I revealed to him who I was; and, recovering my presence of mind, bade him place a seal on his lips with regard to every one save the doctor, whom I dispatched him to fetch. In a few moments I was with you: I stanched the blood—I did all that an unassisted and inexperienced woman could do in such a case. Sir John Lascelles arrived—and the information he gave me, after inspecting the wound, was reassuring. I then resolved to remain with you; and I sent the valet to fetch Agnes. This is all the explanation that I have to give;—unless indeed I should add that I communicated with Lord William Trevelyan, who, as a generous friend and as the intended husband of Agnes——”
“Has he visited this chamber?” asked the old nobleman, hastily.
“Yes,” was the reply. “Considering that he was alike in your confidence and in mine, I did not think it either grateful or prudent to leave him unacquainted with all that had occurred. The secret therefore rests with him, the good physician, the valet, and myself; and the household generally believes that you were found in a fit, which has been followed by a dangerous illness.”
“My dearest wife,” said the Marquis, after a long pause, “were there no circumstances which compelled me, as an honest man, to ask your pardon for the past, in the same way as you have demanded and obtained my forgiveness,—all that you have now told me would efface from my memory every thing that it had ever cherished to your prejudice. The delicacy you have displayed—your generosity—your watchfulness——”
“Nay—I cannot permit you thus to exert yourself,” interrupted the Marchioness, placing her hand upon his mouth.
“But you must permit me to declare how deep is the gratitude that I experience for your conduct towards me,” he said. “Oh! my beloved wife—for so I must again call you—I was mad at the time when I laid violent hands upon myself!”
“Oh! speak not of that!” exclaimed the lady. “My God! was it in consequence of that last interview which you had with Trevelyan——”
“No—no,” interrupted the Marquis: “do not blame yourself in any way! It was not on account of the determination which you had expressed, and which he explained to me, to retain Agnes in your care. No—alas! a far less worthy cause——But tell me,” he exclaimed, suddenly checking himself, as an idea struck him: “has there been any communication made from my bankers——”
“Do not harass yourself with matters of business,” said the Marchioness, in a tone expressive of the deepest solicitude.