“John! John!” she whispered huskily, with her lips close to his ear. “You must promise not to hate me, not to curse me when you have heard. You’ll despise me, you’ll be horrified. But promise—promise that you won’t be cruel.”
“I am never cruel, Mary. Tell me—how is Dick implicated?”
“John, I have done a more dreadful thing than stealing money.”
“I have denied my sin—not for my own sake; no, John, it was for all our sakes—for yours, for Netty’s, for her future husband’s, for the good of the church where you have worked so hard and have become so indispensable.”
“Don’t torture me! Speak plainly—speak out!” he gasped, with labored breath, as though he were choking.
“The bank people thought that Dick altered the checks, John. Of course, if he had lived, I should have confessed that it was not he, but I. I saw our chance when the dreadful news came. They couldn’t punish him for his mother’s sin, and they were powerless, if I denied altering the checks. I did deny it—no, John, don’t shrink away like that! I won’t let you go. No, hold me to you, John, or I can’t go on. Don’t you see that my disgrace would be far greater than a man’s? I should be cut by everyone, disowned by my own father, prosecuted by the bank, and sent to prison. John—don’t you understand? Don’t look at me like that! They’ll put me in a felon’s dock, if you speak. I, your wife, the wife of the rector of St. Botolph’s—think of it!”
She held out her hands appealingly to him; but he thrust her off in terror, as though she were an evil spirit from another world, breathing poisonous vapors. 156
“John, John, you must see that I’m right. Think of Netty. We have a child who lives. Dick is dead. How does it matter what they say about Dick’s money affairs? He died bravely. His name will go down honored and esteemed. The glamour of his heroism will blot out any taint of sin his mother may have put upon him. My denial will save his sister, his father, his mother—our home. Oh, John, you must see it—you must!”
“You must confess!” he cried, denouncing her with outstretched finger and in bitter scorn. “You shall!”