"There stands the temptress"--pointing to Olive Deane--"who first suggested the idea to me. She--she it was who said to me, 'By keeping back the information that has come into your possession so strangely, till Miss Lloyd has become accustomed to her new position, till a life of ease and self-indulgence shall have become, as it were, a second nature to her, till she has learned to love--perhaps till her wedding morn itself--then will her fall from wealth to poverty seem infinitely greater than it would do now: then will yours be a revenge worthy of the name!'"
All eyes were turned on Olive Deane, who was still standing in the background not far from the door. Her eyes were bent on the carpet and her face was deathly pale. Suddenly she lifted her eyes and flashed back a look of scorn, that took in every one there except her cousin; a bitter smile curled her thin lips for a moment, then she drew a chair forward and sat down without a word. No one spoke.
"I am telling you this," resumed Kelvin, "not as blaming my cousin for her suggestion, but as a confession of my own weakness and wretched folly. That my feelings were very bitter against Miss Lloyd, I need hardly tell you, and yet how I despised myself for doing as I was doing, no one but myself can ever know. Not once, but a hundred times, did I vow to myself that I would write to Miss Lloyd and tell her everything, and a hundred times the recollection of her look and her words when she rejected me, came to my mind and held me back. Then came my illness, which lasted so long that I began to fancy I should never get better again, but all through it the wrong that I had done Miss Lloyd lay with a terrible weight on my conscience, and the first day that I was strong enough to hold a pen I wrote to her that letter which she ought to have received this morning."
"All this was very, very wrong of you, Mr. Kelvin," said Lady Dudgeon. "Unfortunately, however, none of us can undo the past, and I am quite sure that in this case your own conscience will be your severest punishment. Miss Deane said something about a nephew of the late Mr. Lloyd being the real heir."
"Yes, a certain Mr. Gerald Warburton. Now that I have broken the news to Miss Lloyd, it will be my duty at once to communicate with Mr. Warburton--though, strange to say, I discovered for the first time this morning that he had already written to me during my illness, but that the letter had been purposely withheld from me." He looked steadily at Olive as he said these words, but whatever her feelings might be at learning that he had somehow discovered her treachery with regard to Warburton's letters, she still kept her eyes fixed stedfastly on the carpet, and gave him no answering look.
"And now, Miss Lloyd," resumed the lawyer, "I will give into your hands that packet which I ought to have placed there five months ago. I dare not ask you to forgive me for the wrong I have done you. Such forgiveness would be an excess of generosity such as I have no right to expect."
He took a small sealed packet from his pocket. Then he stood up and, weak as he was, would have walked across the room to Eleanor, but she crossed the floor hurriedly and took the packet from his hands.
"Oh, Mr. Kelvin, I forgive you fully and willingly!" she said with emotion. "Pray, pray do not let the thought of what is past ever distress you again!"
Then, when she saw that the packet was addressed to her in the handwriting that she remembered so well, she kissed it with tears in her eyes and went slowly back to her seat by Lady Dudgeon.
"Unfortunately, Sir Thomas," resumed Kelvin, "my confessions are not yet at an end, and I must crave your attention for a few minutes longer."