"Do you hate him?" she asked, more energetically.
"No, I hate no one."
"Yet you have cause."
"I try to forgive."
"You do not hate him!" repeated Mrs. Read; and again to herself, she added, "I do!"
Ida let her go. "I pity him!" she said, with mournful earnestness, "but I pity you more! doomed to a life of falsehood and misery! Heaven pity you as I do."
"Stay!" said Mrs. Read, as she would have gone back to the chamber. "Do you despise me utterly? Am I lost?"
"'Lost!' no—while life and reason last, there may be room for repentance."
Repentance! what had she, so queenly in her pride and beauty, to do with repentance? yet the words seemed to strike her. Mr. Read's querulous tones called "Ida!" "I must go," she said. "Will you come?"
"Not now—presently."