Mrs. Garth protested against this last assertion of mine, but I need hardly remark that our party was not quite so cheerful as it had been, and that we were all somewhat relieved when it was time to adjourn to the drawing-room.
“Dorrie,” said Mr. Garth, “can you spare me a few moments before we join the others?”
“Certainly.”
“Then we will have a chat in my study.”
And to Mr. Garth’s study we went. Here, so far as it was advisable for me to do, I confided the details of my history and perplexities to my host, who listened with the greatest attention to all I had to tell him.
“Do you think I am much to blame?” I asked at last.
“I cannot think that you have much to reproach yourself with, as, though somewhat impulsive at times, I believe you to be very fair and just. But, to be candid, I do not quite realize the necessity for all this extreme feeling. That, I suppose, is because I do not know all the workings of the case. Is that so?”
“You are quite right. But I cannot be more explicit than I have been. I have no right to press the subject further on any one’s notice. But I can assure you honestly that I have done nothing of which I need be ashamed, and that it would be utterly impossible for me to live in the same house with my sister again. Not that she need be blamed much, either. But we seem to be naturally antagonistic to each other and are best apart.”
“But what will you do with yourself, child? That you should earn your own living has never been contemplated for you, and you are consequently handicapped at every point.”
“I am not afraid of work. Teaching is not much in my line. I believe I can play the fiddle sufficiently well to perform at an occasional concert, but that would not do much toward keeping me.”