Benson telegraphed to Miss Marchant at Fernhurst, and Sophy appeared on the scene as quickly as boat and rail, and a wretched fly from Avranches, with harness eked out by bits of rope, could bring her. Sophy was broken-hearted at this cruel turn which her sister’s bright fortunes had taken, and agonized with remorseful retrospection. It was she, perhaps, whose imprudent tongue had parted husband and wife, had destroyed that happy home. Sophy hated herself for the folly of that revelation. Why could she not have let well alone? Why could she not have left undisturbed that happy state of things by which she herself had profited so richly? Looking back upon her conduct of that fatal week, she saw that it was her own disappointment which had soured her, and her own selfish vexation which had made her so angry with Vansittart.
It was a long time before Eve was well enough for serious talk of any kind. She rallied slowly, and during the monotonous days of her convalescence she was treated as a child, who must only hear of pleasant things; but when she was well again, quite well—save for that little hacking cough which seemed to have become an element of her being—Sophy ventured to approach the subject of her domestic sorrows.
“I have been utterly miserable since the day I left Charles Street,” said Sophy, seated beside Eve’s easy-chair, and resting her forehead on the cushioned arm as she talked, so that her face was invisible. “I have hated myself for speaking of your husband as I did—only upon hearsay. After all, Mr. Sefton might have misinterpreted Jack’s conduct. It might all have been a mistake.”
“It was a mistake, Sophy.”
“Oh, I am so glad. You found out at once that Mr. Sefton was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Thank God! But then”—looking up at her sister in blank astonishment—“if that is so, why are you parted, Jack and you?”
“That is our secret, Sophy.”
“But why, but why? I can’t understand. There could be only one reason for your leaving him when you loved him so dearly. Nothing but the knowledge of his infidelity would justify——”
“Stop, Sophy,” said Eve, peremptorily. “There is nothing gained by speculating about other people’s business. My husband and I have our own reason for taking different roads. We have never quarrelled; we have never ceased to care for each other. I shall love him with all my heart, and mind, and strength, till my last breath.”