“Is your child legitimate? If you can assure me of that, and that nothing of dishonor can ever touch her in the future, and that, as far as you know, she inherits no taint of insanity or incurable disease, I see no reason why we should not accede to your conditions and adopt the babe as our own.”
Mrs. Marston’s face had grown crimson during this speech, and her eyes flamed with anger.
Twice that week she had been obliged to meet this humiliating suspicion, and it was more than her proud spirit could endure.
“Do you presume——” she began, haughtily.
“Madame,” August Damon interrupted, gravely, but with the utmost respect, “pray do not accuse me of presumption when I have only the well-being of your own child at heart. If you will but consider a moment you cannot fail to realize that it is both natural and proper I should wish to be assured that the child I contemplate taking as my own is of honorable parentage, and with no heritage of future misery hanging over her. We shall, of course, use every precaution to prevent her from ever realizing that she is not our very own; but there may come a time when unforeseen events will lead her to suspect the truth, and then she will demand to be told her history. I must have it in my power to tell her that no story of shame, no stain, was attached to her birth.”
The gentleman’s tone was firm but courteous, and the proud woman before him realized a pride as deep-seated as her own, and that she had no common character to deal with.
He had a perfect right to ask her these questions, she knew, and she was bound to answer them in all sincerity.
The anger died out of her eyes; the color left her face, and there was more humility in her manner than she had before displayed, as she replied:
“Mr. Damon, I assure you that you need never fear even a breath against the fair fame or parentage of my child. I was legally married to a noble, high-minded gentleman, on the 15th of last March, although the ceremony was not performed in this country. More I cannot tell you regarding my private history. As to the little one’s constitution, she inherits no taint of disease or mental trouble that I am aware of. I have always enjoyed vigorous health, as my physique at the present time ought to prove to you.
“I know,” she continued, after a moment of thoughtful silence, “that the giving away of my child, when to all appearance there is no necessity for such an unusual act, appears like a monstrous proceeding; but I am so situated that I cannot help myself; the need is imperative—a relentless fate compels me to the unnatural act. I can tell you nothing more; if you see fit to adopt the babe, after hearing this, well and good; if not, I must reply to some other application, and make other arrangements for her.”