“You poor dear!” said Lucy, smoothing back the dark hair from the fevered and tear-wet face. “You poor dear! You have been cruelly deceived and abused. It doesn’t seem possible! I was as much deceived as you, for I thought Mrs. Dudley a very pleasant woman. There were some things about her I didn’t like, about the way she dressed and painted, yet I never thought but that she was a good woman. I didn’t suspect anything, for you told me she was rich.”
“And that’s what she told me, but she lied; she’s been getting her money from fools like Plimpton and Ben. And I used her money, and lived in her house, and rode about in her carriage with all Denver gaping at me, and never knew a thing. Even this dress I have on was bought with her money. I want to tear it off and stamp it into the mud; but I haven’t a thing to wear that she didn’t get for me, not a thing. And my—my silly pride is to blame—is to blame for Ben, and everything. If I hadn’t gone with her Ben might never have met her. But if Ben could only be induced to quit drinking, something could be done with him yet. I almost wish he would get sick; anything to keep him away from that woman.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Yes, he did, when I hinted at what I had discovered and told him I had left Denver for good and all; he told me I was a little idiot. But I didn’t mind that; I’ve got so used to his harsh words that I don’t mind them; but this I couldn’t stand, this about Sibyl. So then I put aside my shame, and I told him right to his face that I was a silly idiot or I would never speak to him again; and he confessed to me that he had been going there to see Mrs. Dudley more than me, and said he would go as often as he pleased, and that I could help myself; and he said, too, that he intended to marry her. But I know that isn’t so; he would never marry her now. I told him he wouldn’t, and begged him to remember his promises to me and keep away from her; and he told me to shut my mouth and mind my own business. As if that isn’t my own business!”
She began to cry again; and Lucy, holding her tightly, rocked her as if she were a child.
“And, oh, I was so happy! So happy, until I knew that! It was a selfish happiness I see now but I thought it was true happiness. I thought everything of Mrs. Dudley—just everything; and I thought she loved me as much as I loved her; and to have this come! It breaks my heart, it breaks my heart! Oh, Ben, Ben!”
She lay in Lucy’s arms. Their tears flowed together. But what could be said to comfort her?
“Did Mrs. Dudley say anything?”
“When I reproached her she was indignant and denied it; she cried, and said I was an ungrateful girl and did not deserve to have a friend. She declared that Ben came only to see me; but in her very confusion I could see that she was lying, for when my eyes began to open they became sharp as needles. Oh, I could see through her, after that! I told her she had stolen Ben from me, and all for his money, and that she was ruining him, and that it would kill me. I don’t know what I said, for I was crazy, and I was crying so that I thought my heart would break. And just as soon as I could get out of the house I did, and I came right down here; but even then I had to use her money, a little money she had given me, to pay car fare, for I hadn’t any other. But just the thought of it made me want to jump off that train and kill myself.”
“You poor dear!”