“Yes!”
“What is it, Grizel?”
“It is a confession. I have told you a lie... I told it deliberately, for your own good.”
“What did you tell me?”
“I said that the wedding day was to be on the twenty-fifth. That would be next Wednesday.”
“Yes?”
“That was the lie! I told you the wrong date. They were married on the tenth,—twelve days ago. It is all over. The meeting is over, the ceremony is over, the honeymoon is nearly over too. They will soon be thinking of going home.”
Cassandra looked at her, and the blood rushed over her face. A tremor passed over it, of shock, of anguish, of incredulous surprise. Her lips quivered, and the fingers of her hands interlaced till the muscles showed white beneath skin. She asked no more questions, and Grizel stood by her side, watching in silence for the first sight of that which was to be her reward. She waited many minutes, but it came at last, shining forth more and more strongly as the shock and the pain lost their keenness,—a look of relief!
Cassandra’s shoulders heaved, she drew a long, fluttering breath, and her eyes grew moist with tears.
“Oh, thank God. Over! I have been dreading, how I have been dreading... Grizel, Grizel, if you only knew—”