FEELING the embarrassment of the moment most painfully on her side, Mrs. Van Brandt spoke first.
“You have said nothing to me about yourself,” she began. “Is your life a happier one than it was when we last met?”
“I cannot honestly say that it is,” I answered.
“Is there any prospect of your being married?”
“My prospect of being married still rests with you.”
“Don’t say that!” she exclaimed, with an entreating look at me. “Don’t spoil my pleasure in seeing you again by speaking of what can never be! Have you still to be told how it is that you find me here alone with my child?”
I forced myself to mention Van Brandt’s name, rather than hear it pass her lips.
“I have been told that Mr. Van Brandt is in prison for debt,” I said. “And I saw for myself last night that he had left you helpless.”
“He left me the little money he had with him when he was arrested,” she rejoined, sadly. “His cruel creditors are more to blame than he is for the poverty that has fallen on us.”
Even this negative defense of Van Brandt stung me to the quick.