For what seemed a long time after the reading of this, Sumner Dalton sat as if turned to stone, his face white as his shirt-bosom, his eyes wild and staring, and his hands locked together in a painful clasp.
Then starting up with an exclamation of horror, he cried:
“Then I have been doubly cheated and duped. No wonder that Austin Osgood never dared to come near me again.”
“And,” Earle said, quietly and impressively, “Marion Vance’s honor was never marred by the shadow of a stain, though she suffered the same as if it had been, and—her son was not born illegitimate!”
CHAPTER XXXIII
“I OWE YOU NOTHING”
“Oh, why did I not know of this?” groaned Sumner Dalton, beating his brow with his hands. “I was, after all, the legal husband of the heiress of Wycliffe. All these years I might have occupied that proud position, and with unlimited wealth at my command. It is too much—too much to bear. What evil genius has been pursuing me all my life, that I should have missed it all?”
“That ‘evil genius,’ as you term it, was but your own villainy—the spirit that rules in your own evil heart. You sought to ruin an innocent girl, and you overreached yourself. For once justice and punishment has been meted out where it belongs, and you have no one to blame for it but yourself,” Earle answered, sternly.
“’Tis false! She should have told me. She had no right to hide the knowledge from me—her husband.”
“You forget that you scorned her, and told her she had no claim upon you, and also that you refused to give her any right to call you husband.”
“But she had no business to consent to marry me under such false pretenses. ’Twas she who has kept me from my rights, when I might have been master of Wycliffe all these years—twenty-five years of glory and honor lost. It is too much; and if I could make her feel my vengeance now I would,” he groaned.