“Terrible grief, and hard to bear,” outwardly assented Lady Isabel. But in her heart she was thinking that death was not the worst kind of parting. There was another far more dreadful. Mrs. Carlyle began to speak of the children she was to take charge of.
“You are no doubt aware that they are not mine; Mrs. Latimer would tell you. They are the children of Mr. Carlyle’s first wife.”
“And Mr. Carlyle’s,” interrupted Lady Isabel. What in the world made her put in that? She wondered herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. A scarlet streak flushed her cheeks, and she remembered that there must be no speaking upon impulse at East Lynne.
“Mr. Carlyle’s, of course,” said Barbara, believing Madame Vine had asked the question. “Their position—the girl’s in particular—is a sad one, for their mother left them. Oh, it was a shocking business!”
“She is dead, I hear,” said Lady Isabel hoping to turn the immediate point of conversation. Mrs. Carlyle, however, continued as though she had not heard her.
“Mr. Carlyle married Lady Isabel Vane, the late Lord Mount Severn’s daughter. She was attractive and beautiful, but I do not fancy she cared very much for her husband. However that may have been, she ran away from him.”
“It was very sad,” observed Lady Isabel, feeling that she was expected to say something. Besides, she had her role to play.
“Sad? It was wicked—it was infamous!” returned Mrs. Carlyle, giving way to some excitement. “Of all men living, of all husbands, Mr. Carlyle least deserved such a requital. You will say so when you come to know. And the affair altogether was a mystery; for it never was observed or suspected by any one that Lady Isabel entertained a liking for another. It was Francis Levison she eloped with—Sir Francis he is now. He had been staying at East Lynne, but no one detected any undue intimacy between them, not even Mr. Carlyle. To him, as others, her conduct must always remain a mystery.”
Madame appeared to be occupied with her spectacles, setting them straight. Barbara continued,—
“Of course the disgrace is reflected on the children, and always will be; the shame of having a divorced mother—”