"Then you, too, have acted a traitor's part?" she hissed; "but it shall not avail, I will not be trampled down by either you, or this gray-haired—"
"Hold!" cried Uncle Nat, laying his broad palm heavily upon her shoulder. "I am too old to hear such language from you, young lady. I do not wish to upbraid you farther with what you have done. 'Tis sufficient that I know it all, that henceforth we are strangers;" and he turned to leave the room, when Mrs. Deane, advancing towards him said pleadingly, "Is it thus, Nathaniel, that you return to us, after so many years? Eugenia may have been tempted to do wrong, but will you not forgive her for her father's sake?"
"Never!" he answered fiercely, shaking off the hand she had lain upon his arm. "Towards Alice I bear no ill will; and you, madam, who suffered this wrong to be done, I may, in time, forgive, but that woman," pointing towards Eugenia, "Never!" And he left the room, while Eugenia, completely overwhelmed with a sense of her detected guilt, burst into a passionate fit of tears, sobbing so bitterly that Dora, touched by her grief, stole softly to her side, and was about to speak, when, thrusting her away, Eugenia exclaimed, "Leave me, Dora Deane, and never come here again. The sight of you mocking my wretchedness is hateful and more than I can bear!"
There were tears in Dora's eyes, as she turned away, and offering her hand to her aunt and cousin, she took her husband's arm, and went out of a house, where she had suffered so much, and which, while Eugenia remained, she would never enter again.
Like one in a dream sat Stephen Grey. He had been a silent spectator of the exciting scene, but thought had been busy, and ere it was half over, his own position was clearly defined, and he knew that, even as he had cheated Eugenia Deane, so Eugenia Deane had cheated him. It was an even thing, and unprincipled and selfish as he was, he felt that he had no cause for complaint. Still the disappointment was not the less severe, and when the bride of a day, looking reproachfully at him through her tears, asked, "why he didn't say to her a word of comfort?" he coolly replied, "because I have nothing to say. You have got yourself into a deuced mean scrape, and so have I!"
Eugenia did not then understand what he meant, and, when, an hour or two later, she dried her tears, and began to speak of an immediate removal to Philadelphia, where she would be more effectually out of Uncle Nat's way, she was surprised at his asking her, "what she proposed doing in the city, and if she had any means of support."
"Means of support!" she repeated. "Why do you ask that question, when your father is worth half a million, and you are his only son?"
With a prolonged whistle, he answered, "Father worth a copper cent and
I a precious fool comes nearer the truth!"
"What do you mean?" she asked, in unfeigned astonishment; and he replied, "I mean that three days ago father failed, to the tune of one hundred thousand dollars, and if you or I have any bread to eat hereafter, one or the other of us must earn it!"
Eugenia had borne much to-day, and this last announcement was the one straw too many. Utterly crushed, she buried her face in her hands, and remained silent. She could not reproach her husband, for the deception had been equal, and now, when this last hope had been swept away, the world indeed seemed dreary and dark.