The two sisters looked at each other, white-lipped. Rachel knew Astry, and she did not now doubt Eva's words, for he held life cheap, even his own.
"Is Belhaven such a coward as that?" she cried.
Eva's parched lips moved, and it was a moment before the words came. "He's shielding me; he loves me; he'd shield me with his life."
Rachel drew a deep breath. What a beautiful thing it was to be so loved! Sudden tears blinded her eyes, while Eva sank gently down at her feet again and clasped her knees.
"Rachel, you can save your own sister from disgrace, you can save our parents' memory from dishonor; only say you'll marry Belhaven. We'll find a way out, surely we'll find a way out; you won't really have to marry him! Oh, Rachel, it's killing me, I can't stand public disgrace. Johnstone has no pity, he'll take it all into the divorce court, he'll drag me on to the witness-stand, he'll blazon it all out, he—" She fell forward, burying her face against Rachel's knees, weeping horribly.
Her sister shuddered. The picture was appalling and she knew that Eva did not exaggerate. She stood there, the culprit clinging to her knees, and looked out across the distant city to the beautiful dome of the Capitol, outlined now against the eastern sky. A strange, ghostly light was slowly emerging from the night; the rim of the world was white, day was breaking; like the fragile lips of a morning-glory, it deepened to violet as it opened, but the heart of the dawn was translucently white.
"If I marry Belhaven, I admit the truth of your words, and your words are false."
"No one knows what I said but Johnstone!" Eva replied, with a low sob.
"Oh, I can't do it!" gasped Rachel, with a shudder of repulsion.
Eva gave a little cry of despair and slipped to the floor; she lay there white and still and she scarcely seemed to breathe.