“What of that? If he has a wife I have no husband—so it’s as broad as it’s long,” said Jenny.
“Jenny!” cried Nelly.
“And, oh!” said Jenny, “there is one thing I didn’t tell you. But you’ll keep it secret? Promise me you’ll keep it secret. I’m to meet him again by appointment this very night.”
“But, Jenny!”
“Yes, in the garden of this house—by the waterfall at eight o’clock. I’ll slip out after dinner in my cloak with the hood to it.”
“Jenny Crow!”
“It’s our last chance, it seems. The poor fellow sails at midnight, or tomorrow morning, or to-morrow night, or the next night, or sometime. So you see he’s not going away without saying good-by to somebody. I couldn’t help telling you, Nelly. It’s nice to share a secret with a friend one can trust, and if he is another woman’s husband—”
Nell had risen to her feet with her face aflame.
“But you mustn’t do it,” she cried. “It’s shocking, it’s horrible—common morality is against it.”
Jenny looked wondrous grave. “That’s it, you see,” she said. “Common morality always is against everything that’s nice and agreeable.”