“How like Freke it was—how perfectly reckless of consequences! He is unlike any man I ever saw or heard of. I believe, in his strange way, he loves Jacqueline; but what does any one know of such a man!”
The absence of vindictiveness toward Freke, on Throckmorton’s part, surprised Judith; but, in truth, he scarcely thought of Freke: a creature as weak and impressionable as Jacqueline was bound to succumb to the first overmastering influence. Throckmorton himself had never been able to get any real influence over her. Presently Judith said:
“One thing I do know—she wants your forgiveness.”
“She has it, poor child!”
Then there was another pause. Throckmorton, after a while, rose to go.
“If you want anything, send for me. I shall be over early in the morning.” He hesitated a moment, and then said: “This has been a strange experience for me; but it is over—” And then, as if checking a confession, went out of the room and out of the house.
When Judith went up-stairs, Jacqueline was still sleeping, but presently she wakened, and turned her lovely, troubled eyes on Judith.
“He is very sorry, Jacqueline, and he forgives you and will trouble you no more,” she whispered. A look of relief came into Jacqueline’s face. She closed her eyes as if to sleep.