She stopped, rocking herself to and fro, until she could control her shaking voice.
"I never wanted her to hev Rob Granger," she began again, speaking hurriedly, "an' I tried to hender it all I could. But 'twa'n't no use. I knew 'twould come to this, sooner or later. 'Twas in his father, an' it's in him. The Grangers was all of 'em alike—proud an' high-sperrited, an' never knowin' their own minds two days at a time. It's in the blood, an' readin' po'try an' sich don't make it no better. I knowed Ruby wa'n't no match for Rob; she's gentle an' quiet, an' ain't got much book-larnin'. But her heart was sot on him, poor gal!"
And again she paused, sobbing gently now, and wiping her eyes on her apron. Mrs. Jerome rose and went over to her. A wonderful change had passed over her. Every trace of pride and scorn had faded from her face. She was gentle, almost timid, in manner, as she stood before the weeping woman.
"Mrs. Rogers," she said, kindly, "I cannot tell you how sorry I am. It is all unnecessary, I assure you. It is very foolish of people to talk. I shall see that you have no more trouble on my—on this account. If I had known"—she hesitated, stammering. "You see, Mrs. Rogers, I did not even know that Robert Granger was married. If I had, perhaps——"
The woman looked up incredulously. The blood tingled hot through Mrs. Jerome's veins as she answered, with a sting of humiliation at her position.
"It may seem strange—it is strange, but no one has ever mentioned it to me until—a few days ago. Besides, as I tell you, there is no need for talk. There shall be none. You can go home in perfect confidence that you will have no further cause for trouble—that I can prevent."
Mrs. Rogers rose and took the lady's soft hand in hers.
"God bless ye, ma'am. Ye'll do what's right, I know. You must forgive me for thinking wrong of ye, but you see——"
She broke off in confusion.
"It is no matter," said Mrs. Jerome. "You did not know me, of course. Good-night."