I tried—very gently—to remonstrate. “At your age, and at his age,” I said, “surely there is hope?”
“There is no hope.” She pressed her hand on her heart. “I know it, I feel it, here.”
“Oh, Eunice, it’s hard for me to say that!”
“I will try to make it easier for you. Say that I have forgiven him—and say no more.”
CHAPTER XLIX. THE GOVERNOR ON HIS GUARD.
After leaving Eunice, my one desire was to be alone. I had much to think of, and I wanted an opportunity of recovering myself. On my way out of the house, in search of the first solitary place that I could discover, I passed the room in which we had dined. The door was ajar. Before I could get by it, Mrs. Tenbruggen stepped out and stopped me.
“Will you come in here for a moment?” she said. “The farmer has been called away, and I want to speak to you.”
Very unwillingly—but how could I have refused without giving offense?—I entered the room.
“When you noticed my keeping my name from you,” Mrs. Tenbruggen began, “while Selina was with us, you placed me in an awkward position. Our little friend is an excellent creature, but her tongue runs away with her sometimes; I am obliged to be careful of taking her too readily into my confidence. For instance, I have never told her what my name was before I married. Won’t you sit down?”