The room was small and poorly decent, and her hoop and mine filled it. She curtseyed low, as did I, and though she aimed at composure, I could see her lips work. The line between her brows was eight years deeper, her face pale, the bloom faded, and her mouth droopt. Had she been any other, I had pitied her. His friendship is fatal to my sex, though I have wore it like an honour. For me, I was composed. It's not for nothing I have spent my life in that school--she was a newer pupil.
Being seated, I asked her to favour me with her commands, and she came straight at the business with a kind of directness pitiable enough.
"Madam, all the world talks of the goodness of Mrs Johnson. I am not long a resident of these parts, but am no stranger to your merits. 'Tis my confidence in them causes this explanation. May I ask pardon for plain speaking?"
"Madam, if the subject is one I can admit of, speech cannot be too plain."
"So I have been told. Accept me therefore as a plain-dealer, Madam, and have the goodness to read what I cannot speak. But first,"--she put her hand to her throat as if she might swoon, and so closing her eyes for a moment, opened them clearly on me,--"Madam, between a certain gentleman and myself have been love-passages tending, as I believed--hoped--to marriage. A passion that, with due regard to honour, hath been the ruler of my life hath brought me to Celbridge, as I did think for the happiness of both. Being arrived, I have the happiness to see this gentleman often, and he hath had the goodness to say that no person hath ever been so loved, honoured, esteemed, adored by him as your humble servant. Yet I am told that a former attachment doth so constrain his honour that little can be hoped."--(Her voice broke.) "Madam, will you read this paper, and say Yes or No?"
I opened it, and thus read:---;
Madam, of your angelic goodness be pleased to answer, are you indeed the wife of one I name not? If it be true, I will utterly withdraw my intrusive presence. In pity, answer me.
It seemed many minutes I sat with this in my hand, and she dropt on her knee at my feet, looking up in agony. Time passed and I heard my voice as if it were another's, and strange to me.
"Madam, am I expected to disclose my secrets to one of whom I know not if she tells truth? What are you to the Dean, and what proof do you give of what you are, that I should answer?"
She said very low:--