Here, Elizabeth rose quietly and making some trivial excuse, passed hastily from the room, but not so quickly but that Stella, who had both felt and seen her uneasiness, immediately joined her outside the door.
"Oh, Lady Atherton," Elizabeth cried as Stella drew her closely to her side in mute sympathy when they were alone. "How dreadful it all is. To think that the man I loved and trusted; the father of my darling child, should be nameless, friendless and alone, with sin upon his soul and no one to breathe a word of sympathy in his hour of need. Oh, Lawrie!" she sobbed, "If I could only come to you."
"But, dear Lizzie," whispered Stella, "You must think of yourself and Elsa first of all. You have suffered enough and it can do no possible good for you to go to him. Wait, Lizzie, wait until he is penitent and expresses a wish for his wife's forgiveness."
"Yes, I know that he does not care," cried Elizabeth, "but my heart aches for him and I would gladly forgive all if he would only say that he loved me. Oh, My Husband. You were merciful,—you spared my honor and gave my child a stainless birth when, body and soul, I would have been your slave. Yes, I too, will be merciful," she continued suddenly with a determined voice as she raised her streaming eyes to Stella's face.
"Let me go to him, dear Lady Atherton, my place is at my husband's side. Let me plead for him at his trial and bear with him the penalty of his sins."
"Do you love him so dearly, Lizzie?" asked Stella sadly.
"I loved him once—Yes, yes I love him now," she added,—then facing Stella she asked abruptly, "would you not do the same? Would you not cling to him and work for him, if the man you loved was trembling on the verge of awful danger?"
"I don't know," said Stella, doubtfully. Then a proud smile curved her lips and her dark eyes flashed as she added, slowly, "I am afraid, dear, that my love would never stand the test of sin and crime in one I loved. Weakness and error I would shield; I would face danger and bear humiliation, but I feel that I could never endure to blush with shame for a loved one's infamy or drink the dregs of degradation, although pressed to my lips by my husband, himself. No! Lizzie," she said decidedly, "when my lover falls from his pedestal of honor and virtue and descends to the crimes and vices of this earth, I shall cease to love him, and though it tore the weak, fleshy heart from my bosom, I would never voluntarily look upon his face again." There was silence for several moments between the two when she finished speaking, but at last Stella rose and said gently, "Wait here a little and compose yourself, dear, while I return to our friends and when you join us again there shall be nothing said to distress you, for I know," she added roguishly, "the young officer has not come to see either mamma or me and you know Elsa is hardly old enough to receive young gentlemen callers without her mother to act as chaperone."