"Madam," she broke out, "it means more than tongue can tell. And since you still doubt, have the condescension to read this letter of my own which he returned to me in rebuke. 'Twill show you our terms."
--Cad, you are good beyond expression. I thought that last letter I writ was obscure and restrained enough. I took pains to write it after your manner. I am sorry my jealousy should hinder you from writing more love letters. Pray tell me, did you not wish to come where that road to the left would have led you? I am now as happy as I can be without seeing--Cad. I beg you will continue happiness to your own Heskinage.
I read, and was silent--reading this letter by the light of a dead sunset. I never dared so write. There was that between them that he had never shared with me, and yet all his old caution, as with me. I thought not, however, so much of his feelings as of hers, for I think his care for women is but skin-deep at-best. He was ever willing to take the tribute of their hearts--nay, of their lives; but should they incommode him, or trespass across the line he hath marked--this careless liking is changed to hatred, and he will avenge himself brutally on the weak creatures that love him.
Who should know this but I--I who have lived beside him and retained his friendship only because I have in all things submitted to his will--silent to death? Had I anything to lose to this unfortunate woman? No, I had lost all many a long year ago. She still had hopes; I, none. Why torture a wretch so miserable?
She kneeled before me, pale as a corpse. 'Twas the strangest meeting. I could scarce hear her voice.
"Madam," says she, "I have put my life in your hand; for if Mr Dean knew that I had come here--that I had dared--O Madam, he can be cruel to women!"
I strove to collect my thoughts; then heard my own voice as a stranger's:--
"Madam, to your question, the answer is No. There is no marriage between Mr Dean and me. I have no claim on him that obstructs your own."
She looked up like one in a stupor of amazement--so dazed and white that I repeated my words. Then, suddenly, she gathered herself into composure like my own, but her poor lips trembled. I saw in her my girlhood long dead.
"If I say I thank you, Madam, with all my heart and soul for thus opening your mind to a most miserable woman, I say little. What is left of my life shall be a study to deserve your compassion. What would you have me do?"