"And she is really married?" murmured Beatrice. "O, how I have wronged her!"
"In what way?" asked Godfrey. "Come, Trixie, let us learn the reason of your past aversion."
It was some time before Beatrice could be induced to reply.
"You remember the case of old Gideon?" she said at last.
"Perfectly," replied Godfrey, adding for Idris' enlightenment, "he was an old farmer at the point of death. I was unable to procure a nurse, and Trixie generously offered her services. The poor fellow died at midnight; and Trixie, though pressed to remain, left the place and came walking home all by herself, reaching here at two in the morning. But what has this to do with Mademoiselle Rivière—I beg her pardon, Lady Walden?"
"On my way home," replied Beatrice, "I had to pass her villa, and whom should I see walking up the garden-path towards the house but Ivar himself! He had not noticed me, and I did not make myself known to him: in truth I was so much amazed that I could do nothing but stand silent under the shadow of the trees, watching, or, if you will, playing the spy. I saw him open the door of the villa with a key of his own, and go in. Not knowing that he was married to Mademoiselle Rivière, what conclusion could I come to but that—that——"
And here Beatrice paused, leaving her hearers to guess the nature of her conclusion.
"And you thought that of Mademoiselle Rivière?" said Idris: and Beatrice felt keenly the reproach in his tone.
"I have never whispered my suspicion to any one—not even to you, Godfrey."
"The sequel shows the advantage of holding one's tongue," replied her brother. "It has saved you from having to make a humiliating apology to the new viscountess. Well, seeing that she is now your cousin, you cannot do better than acknowledge the relationship by making a call upon her."