"Go on! Go on!" she said breathlessly.
"This Furniss hated my cousin, for he was his successful rival with Helen Hamilton, and took his revenge in the cruelest and basest manner. He discovered that my cousin was in the habit of visiting me occasionally in the evening, and he poisoned my husband's mind with the foulest insinuations.
"He told him that William Crosby, my cousin, was an old lover, and that—oh, I cannot tell you what he said! He drove my husband, who was violent and passionate, half mad, and sent him home one night early, when he knew Will was sure to be with me. I remember that dreadful night so well—I have terrible reason to remember it. Will sat with me, talking of Helen, telling me he could wait no longer; that she had consented, and they were going to elope the very next night. While he was speaking the door was burst open, and Harry stood before us, livid with fury, a pistol in his hand. A second later, and there was a report—William Crosby sprang from his seat and fell forward, with a scream I shall never forget. I think I was screaming too; I can hardly recollect what I did, but the room was full in a moment, and my husband was gone—how, I don't know. That was two years ago, and I have never seen him since; but I think—"
She stopped short, for Kate Danton had caught her suddenly and violently by the arm, her eyes dilating.
"Agnes!" she exclaimed, passionately; "what is it you have been telling me? Who are you?"
Agnes Darling held up her clasped hands.
"Oh, Miss Danton," she cried, "for our dear Lord's sake, have pity on me! I am your brother's wretched wife!"