"Ever since I came to myself," went on Amidon, "and through your wonderful power found out about this life of mine here in Bellevale, the name of Miss Scarlett has come up from time to time as connected with it. I have always shrunk from having you find out just what our—relations—have been, and the whole thing has been dark to me—dark and forbidding. What wrong I—this man Brassfield—may have done her, I can not know without your aid. I must know this, now. If she has been wronged, she shall have reparation, as full as I can give."
"What do you mean," said Madame le Claire—and Elizabeth held her breath—"by full reparation?"
"First let us know the wrong! If that exists, the reparation will be for Miss Scarlett and her advisers to name."
"But they may name the keeping of the promise they say you have made!"
"I have thought that all over."
"But your engagement to——"
"The lady you are about to mention," said Amidon, "must have ceased to care much for me, after what I am told took place the other night; and when she learns of this other disgrace, as she must before she sees me again—if she ever does—it will be all over—for ever—except the wrong to her—for which reparation can never be made. I——"
"Oh, it is too dreadful!" cried Madame le Claire. "And for that worst thing—the other night—I only am to blame! I put into you the character in which you have become weak and drawn aside by suggestions not natural to your own character. Can you ever forgive me?"
"I have never thought of blaming you!" he protested. "You? Why, no one ever had so good a friend; all the chance I have had to win happiness here, you gave me. I have lost that—by misfortune. Now help me to make things as near right as I can. Put me back into the world of Brassfield, and let me know the worst that I—he—has done."
"Coom een!" said the voice of the professor in the corridor. "Coom een! Clara iss not here now: den she must be someveres. Pe bleaced to sit vile I look. Anyhow, she vill soon return. Ach, Herr Cox, ve missed you creatly at our supper—eatings of reasons and sdreams of souls! Ach! Here iss our friendt te chutche, ant Herr Amidon—Brassfield, I mean!"