"But, Chloe, what of Tochatti herself? She must not be allowed to go unpunished. Besides, there is another aspect of the case. You know these abominable letters have been scattered broadcast in the land, and it is only fair to Dr. Anstice that their authorship should be published and their lies refuted."
"Yes. I had forgotten that." She turned to Anstice, who had risen and was standing leaning against the mantelpiece, looking desperately uncomfortable. "Forgive me, please, Dr. Anstice! For the second time I had forgotten that you were the victim of this latest outrage of Tochatti's——"
"Mrs. Carstairs—please!" In his haste to explain himself Anstice spoke rather incoherently. "If you are willing to let this matter drop—why, so am I. For your own sake I think, while you are behaving nobly, you are making a mistake—a most generous, chivalrous mistake—in not proving your entire innocence before all the world, but if you are really resolved on it, do let me make you understand that personally I am only too ready to let the whole thing slide into the oblivion it deserves!"
"My dear fellow"—Major Carstairs spoke warmly—"this is all very well, very Quixotic, very—well, what you call noble, chivalrous—but what about the moral side of the affair? Justice should be tempered with mercy, certainly; but it doesn't do to defraud justice altogether of her dues. The woman has committed a crime—I repeat it, a crime against society, against you, against my wife; and to let her go unpunished is to put a premium on wickedness; and leave both you and my wife to lie under a most undeserved, most cruel stigma."
For a moment Anstice hesitated; and before he could frame a reply Chloe spoke very quietly, yet with a decision there was no mistaking.
"Leo, I see your point of view plainly—a good deal more plainly, I think, than you see mine. Of course as a man you want your wife's name cleared; and if you insist on making the affair public, why then"—said Chloe with a little smile—"I suppose I must submit as a good wife should. But"—she was serious now—"if you knew how I dread the publicity of it all—the reports in the papers, the gossip, the talk—oh, it makes me shudder even to think of it! And if you imagine me revengeful enough to find satisfaction in the idea of Tochatti's punishment—well, I think you must have a quite mistaken notion of me after all!"
Major Carstairs hesitated, looking from his wife to Anstice in manifest perplexity.
"Well, really, Chloe, I don't know what to say. Of course you and Dr. Anstice are the people chiefly concerned; and if you are both of you sufficiently superhuman to forego your legitimate revenge—well, I suppose it is not for me to interfere!"
"Suppose you think it over, sir." Anstice felt a sudden desire to get away, to be alone, to think over the revelation of the past half-hour. "For my part I really must go about my work—I'd no idea it was so late. By the way, who will take charge of Tochatti to-night? She is asleep now"—he had seen to that—"but later on she will want a little looking after. She has not borne out my theory," he added, turning to the soldier. "I thought that last night's excitement would have vanished entirely to-day; but I'm bound to admit she is in a queer state; and if she is no better to-morrow you will have to let me send someone to look after her."
"The housekeeper and I will be able to do that at present," said Chloe quietly. "You know poor Tochatti's hatred of professional nurses was directly responsible for that last burst of letter-writing, so we had better not try her too far!"