"Edith!"
His answer was a cry—a cry wrung from a soul full of love and anguish untold. It struck home, even to her heart, steeled against him and all feeling of pity.
"I am sorry to see you so ill. I am glad your accident is no worse." Again she spoke, stiff, formal, commonplace words, that sounded horribly out of place, even to herself.
"Edith," he repeated, and again no words can tell the pathos, the despair of that cry, "forgive me—have pity on me. You hate me, and I deserve your hate, but oh! if you knew, even you would have mercy and relent!"
He touched her in spite of herself. Even a heart of stone might have softened at the sound of that despairing, heart-wrung voice—at sight of that death-like, tortured face. And Edith's, whatever she might say or think, was not a heart of stone.
"I do pity you," she said very gently; "I never thought to—but from my soul I do. But, forgive you! No, Sir Victor Catheron; I am only mortal. I have been wronged and humiliated as no girl was ever wronged and humiliated before. I can't do that."
He covered his face with his hands—she could hear the dry sobbing sound of his wordless misery.
"It would have been better if I had not come here," she said still gently. "You are ill, and this excitement will make you worse. But they insisted upon it—they said you had a request to make. I think you had better not make it—I can grant nothing—nothing."
"You will grant this," he answered, lifting his face and using the words Inez had used; "it is only that when I am dying, and send for you on my death-bed, you will come to me. Before I die I must tell you all—the terrible secret; I dare not tell you in life; and then, oh surely, surely you will pity and forgive! Edith, my love, my darling, leave me this one hope, give me this one promise before you go?"
"I promise to come," was her answer; "I promise to listen—I can promise no more. A week ago I thought I would have died sooner than pledge myself to that much—sooner than look in your face, or speak to you one word. And now, Sir Victor Catheron, farewell."