"Ah, there lies my shame! Sara, I dared--I dared to attribute ill-conduct to another," he cried with emotion. "In my pride and folly, in my mind's delusion, I presumed to set myself up for a judge over one who in goodness might have crushed me to nothing. I shall never get over the remorse during life."
"You--did not--attribute ill-conduct of any sort to me?" she said with white lips.
"To you! To you whom I have ever believed to be one of the best and truest women upon earth!--whom I have regarded through it all with an amount of respect unutterable! No, no. But the question serves me right."
She laid her hands one over the other as she sat, striving to keep her feelings under control. Praise from him was all too sweet yet.
"O do me justice so far, Sara! While I gave you up I knew that to my heart and judgment none were like unto you for goodness: I knew that if my obstinate pride, my spirit of self-sufficiency, did but allow me to marry you, you would be the greatest treasure man ever took to himself. Can you tolerate me while I dare openly to say these things?--can you believe that I am pouring them forth in my humiliation? I have loved you deeply and fervently; I shall love you always; but even that love has scarcely equalled my admiration and my respect."
"But who else, then, could have had any counteracting influence?" she returned, after a while.
"I dare not tell you."
"There was only Edward. I had no other brother. No one else could have done anything to bring shame upon----oh, surely you cannot mean papa!" she broke off, the improbable idea flashing over her.
"Don't ask me, Sara! In mercy to myself."
"Papa who was so good?" she reiterated, paying no heed to his words in her wonder. "He was so just, so kind, so honourable! I think if ever there was a good man on earth who tried to do as God would have him, it was papa. It is impossible you could suspect anything wrong in him!"