"Miss Rachel, dear, you're not angry?"
Rachel turned quickly and found that Bantry was in tears. She laid a kindly hand on the old woman's shoulder.
"I'm not in the least angry, but I hate the whole business, Bantry; I don't want to hear about it."
The Scotchwoman sobbed brokenly. "Miss Rachel—oh, for God's sake, darling, it isn't true?"
Rachel's hand fell from her shoulder and she turned very pale. "I don't understand."
"About Mr. Belhaven?"
"You mean about my engagement? Yes, it's true; I'm going to marry him."
Bantry covered her face with her hands and leaned against the wall, sobbing.
Rachel was touched; she knew that the old woman regarded her almost in the light of a foster-child, and she realized that there must be strong reasons for her horror of the approaching marriage. Without even imagining the depths of a kitchen scandal, she experienced a vague feeling of terror, a terror that was chiefly concerned with the danger to Eva. If Bantry felt such grief at the mere thought of her marriage with Belhaven, of what terrible thing had Zélie accused her sister? As yet Rachel's mind, perplexed and dulled with anguish, had not fully realized her own situation; it almost seemed to her that some one else was going to marry Belhaven. But now she began to appreciate her peril; she must not let the old Scotchwoman discover the secret, for not even the faithful Bantry could know that she was saving Eva. She tried to assume a lighter tone.
"I'm sorry my marriage grieves you so much, Bantry, but it won't separate us; I shall keep you with me."