“The woman needs no protection save against such slanderous tongues as yours.”
Westgate did not resent the remark. Indeed, he did not fully appreciate it. He was too busily engaged in wondering at the minister’s attitude. For a moment he did not even reply. Then he asked:
“Am I distinctly to understand that it was you and not Lamar who was with Mrs. Bradley on the bridge?”
“I cannot make the statement of that fact too positive, nor can I state too positively that on that occasion Mrs. Bradley conducted herself as became a modest, refined, pure-minded woman. Westgate, some one has been telling you one of those half-truths which are ‘ever the worst of lies,’ and you have been only too eager to envelop it with an evil motive.”
Still Westgate showed no resentment. He was apparently immersed in thought.
“Do you realize,” he inquired at last, “what sort of a weapon you are putting into my hands to-day—a weapon with which I can, at any moment, blacken your character, and blast your career?”
“I realize nothing,” replied the rector, “except that a woman’s good name has been attacked, and that it is my duty to defend her. If you choose to divert the knowledge I have given you to the base uses of slander, that will be your sin, not mine.”
At last Westgate began to wake up. His face paled and he rose to his feet.
“Mr. Farrar,” he said, “I think this interview had better come to an end.”
“I quite agree with you,” was the response. “My errand is done. I have the explanation I came for. I believe that is all.”