He knew that much of her charge was true. He could deny only the last of it.
"Not friendly," he said, "for we had a bitter quarrel once. But he told me you had fled from him, refusing to become his wife, after I obtained my divorce. You were untrue to both of us. So why should we become enemies for the sake of a worthless woman?"
How she shivered with shame under the stinging contempt of his tones, for some womanhood lurked in her still, and she knew that she was not quite so black as she was painted.
But as she quailed before his righteous wrath, Cissy came generously to the rescue, her gray eyes dark with emotion, her cheeks suffused with blushes.
"Hush! do not utterly crush her with your scorn!" she cried. "Clifford Standish lied to you, the perjured villain! She did not refuse to marry him. He told her he had a wife already, and was tired of his liaison, so she fled from him in horror at her terrible position. She has been trying to lead a good life ever since, and we must not throw her back into temptation. I have forgiven her, and promised to keep her secret, and so must you."
[CHAPTER LII.]
FOR CISSY'S SAKE.
"The burden of my heart, dear,
There's little need to tell;
There's little need to say, dear,
I've loved you long and well.
"And you will be my wife, dear,
So may you ever bless
Through all your sunny life, dear,
The day you answered yes."