"Yes, there is one which came yesterday," replied Emily; "it is lying on my table up-stairs."
"Bring it—bring it, dearest girl," he said; "I wish very much to see it."
When he had got, he examined it with a well-pleased smile, and then said, with a laugh, "I must impound this, my love. I am now on the right track, and will not leave it till I have arrived at perfect certainty."
"You are very strange and mysterious to-day, Marlow," said the beautiful girl, "what does all this mean?"
"It means, my love," replied Marlow, "that I have very dark doubts and suspicions of Mrs. Hazleton,—and all I have seen and heard to-day confirms me. Now sit down here by me, dear Emily, and tell me if, to your knowledge, you have ever given to Mrs. Hazleton cause of offence."
"Never!" answered Emily, firmly and at once. "Never in my life."
Marlow mused, and then, with his arms round her waist, he continued, "Bethink yourself, my love. Within the course of the last two or three years, have you ever seen reason to believe that Mrs. Hazleton's affection for you is not so great as it appears?—Has it ever wavered?—Has it ever become doubtful to you from any stray word or accidental circumstance?"
Emily was silent for a moment, and then replied, thoughtfully, "Perhaps I did think so, once or twice, when I was staying at her house, last year."
"Well, then, now, dear Emily," said Marlow, "tell me every thing down to the most minute circumstance that occurred there."
Emily hesitated. "Perhaps I ought not," she said; "Mrs. Hazleton showed me, very strongly, that I ought not, except under an absolute necessity."