"To the end."
"Well, hasn't she?"
He shook his head.
"No. She has fallen short—disappointed me cruelly. When it came to the final test, her affection collapsed. Oh, she has been wonderful," he added quickly. "Do not think I fail to appreciate that. She has far out-distanced every other woman I ever have known. I simply expected too much of her, doubtless the impossible. Human nature is frail—a woman's heart the frailest thing of all. I have always said so."
"You wrong Marcia," cried Sylvia hotly. "Her heart is not frail. Neither is she the weak sort of person you have pictured. In all the world you could not match her loyalty or the depth of her affection. I owe Marcia a great debt. I could tell you things she has done that would make you thoroughly ashamed of your superficial rating of her. But why go into that? If after the experience we three have lived through together you have not discovered what she is, it is futile for me to attempt to show you.
"You came into our lives like a meteor—entirely detached from everything. We knew nothing about you and in the face of damaging evidence you offered neither Marcia nor me one word of explanation. Marcia asked none. Without rhyme or reason she believed in you. I had not her faith. I freely confess I thought you guilty. Oh, I liked you sufficiently well to be ready to help you save your skin. But Marcia cared enough for you to want you to save your soul.
"There is a difference in that sort of caring, Mr. Heath—a big difference. When you were taken ill, we both nursed you—I willingly, she devotedly. Here lay another difference had you been able to detect it. What happened as a result of this enforced intimacy? You know—know far better than I."
"I fell in love with Marcia," replied the man without an instant's hesitation.
"You fell in love!" Sylvia repeated, her lip curling. "You call it love—the poor thing you offered her! Why, Marcia would have gone to the world's end with you, Stanley Heath, had she the right. She would have faced any humiliation for your sake. If prison doors closed upon you, she would have remained faithful until they swung open and afterward followed you to any corner of the earth in which you chose to begin a new life."
"That's where you're wrong, Sylvia," contradicted Heath. "Marcia was not ready to do that. I tried her out and she refused. When I told her I should return to her, and asked her in so many words whether she was willing to face shame and public scorn for my sake she turned her back on me. She could not go to that length."