‘What then? Good heavens, can you ask that question? Do you know that your character is at stake? Then you do not deny it?’
‘No; for it is true.’
Father and son looked at one another; then the baronet proceeded:
‘Then all the rest is true. You are that man’s mistress!’
The shot struck home, but Alma was prepared for it, and without changing her attitude in the least, she quietly replied:
‘No, uncle; I am that man’s wife!’
‘His wife!’ ejaculated father and son in the same breath.
‘Yes. We were married some weeks ago, and after the wedding, went for a few days to France. There! I intended to keep the secret, till I was free to tell it; but gross, cruel importunity has wrung it from me. Do not think, however,’ she continued, rising to her feet and exchanging her self-possessed manner for one of angry wrath, ‘that I shall ever forgive you, either of you, for your shameful suspicions concerning me. You might have spared me so many insults. You might have known me better. However, now you know the truth, perhaps you will relieve me from any further persecution.’
Father and son exchanged another look.
‘Do you actually affirm that you are married?’ exclaimed the baronet.