Yes, but could he? And would he be justified in renouncing her now that he knew she loved him? It would be all very well if he had not made love to her and gone so far as to ask her to marry him. If only his happiness were concerned the path of duty would be plain enough. But Hetty and he were now partners in love, and had he the power or the right to dissolve the partnership without consulting her? Clearly not. However he looked at the situation doubts and difficulties arose before his mind. There was only one matter clear--he ought to speak to Layard at once.
It was now half-past seven. Layard left the gasworks at eight. Why should he not intercept him on his way home and put him in possession of all the facts? Upon what Layard said, the course to be adopted could be based.
He got to the gas-house, and was walking up and down impatiently when Alfred Layard came out of the gateway and saw him.
"Anything the matter?" asked Layard apprehensively when Ray came up to him.
"At your place? O, no! I wanted a few minutes' talk with you, so I came to meet you."
"All right," said Layard, with a smile. He thought he could guess what the talk would prove to be about. He was the incarnation of unselfishness, and it never occurred to him for a moment to consider how awkward it would be for him if Hetty married and left him.
"I want first of all to tell you a very painful piece of family history," said Ray, anxious to get the worst over as soon as possible.
"But why should you, Ray? I am the least curious man alive."
"You will know why I wish to tell you before I have finished."
Then, without further preface, he narrated the history of Kate, her marriage, her flight, her supposed death, her appearance last night at the Ait, and her husband's forgiveness.