Her sister knelt, raised her head, and she pushed back the fair hair. Eva's face was soft and childlike and it bore no line of thought, or passion, or even remorse,—only childish grief. Tears filled Rachel's eyes; she had been cruel, her sister's case was desperate, the family honor was involved, the hope of any future happiness for Eva, even for Eva's soul. Rachel gathered her into her arms and her sister, feeling her embrace, sighed and opened her eyes.
"You're like God, Rachel; you always forgive!"
"Hush!" Rachel looked solemnly into the violet eyes. "Eva, as you'll answer at the last day, answer me now. Are you innocent? Have you done wrong?"
Eva trembled; she was afraid of those inexorable eyes. She was not afraid of wrong-doing, she was not afraid of untruth, she was not even afraid of God, but she was afraid of Rachel.
"I'm innocent," she said, but her heart quaked.
Rachel, still kneeling, with her arms around the culprit, closed her eyes. She tried to shut out the world, to see her way. "If I marry Belhaven, will you swear to me now, as a condition, that you will, from this hour, break with him and never again permit him to make love to you? That you'll try to be a true and loyal wife to Astry, to remember that he's given you his name?"
The color came back to Eva's cheeks, the light to her eyes; she saw hope, escape from the disgrace, and she snatched at it.
"I promise! Rachel—you will?"
Rachel raised her gently to her feet and put away her clinging hands, then she went to the window and looked out at the light which grew and grew across the city. God's day was wonderful; it was coming to her at last and she must meet it. Love was lost, happiness was lost, but truth was not lost. Her sister was innocent, it was a duty to save her; she had promised to always take care of her, she was called upon now to fulfil that promise. Was she ready? She stood there for a moment longer, a moment that seemed to Eva's anxiety interminable, before she turned and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to shut it all out, to hide this horror from her own eyes, and again the unreality of it possessed her. She let her hands fall at her sides and Eva saw that her face was colorless and worn.
"I suppose there's nothing else to be done," she said, with a shudder, "and if it's to save you—"