“And go and see him hung!” Clarice cried, going into a hysterical fit.
From this she had just recovered when Mrs. Ralston came in and nearly sent her into another.
“My poor, dear child; my daughter that was to be, and please God will be yet,” the little lady said, caressing her with a mother’s pity and tenderness.
Sitting beside her she told her of her visit to Paul and of his great desire to see her.
“Go to him as soon as you can,” she said, “and comfort him. He is as innocent as you are.”
“You believe it?” Clarice asked.
“Believe it!” Mrs. Ralston repeated. “Why shouldn’t I believe it?”
Clarice saw she was offended and hastened to say: “I did not mean intentional killing,—no one believes that,—but might it not have been accidental?”
“That makes him a liar,” was Mrs. Ralston’s reply, while Clarice began to speak of Elithe, who had unquestionably exaggerated what she saw, not meaningly, perhaps, but because of her relations to Jack. This was the first Mrs. Ralston had heard of Elithe’s relations to Jack, and she listened with a good deal of interest to what Clarice told her.
“I shall see the girl and talk with her,” she said, as she arose to go.