“If between them they managed to get at the truth it would be very awkward,” she said.
“No fear of that,” he laughed in full confidence. “A man once dead and buried, with a coroner’s verdict upon him, is not easily believed to be alive and well. No, my dear; rest assured that these men will never get at our secret—never.”
I smiled within myself. How little did he dream that the man of whom he had been speaking was actually overhearing his words!
“But Ethelwynn, in order to regain her place in the doctor’s heart, may betray us,” his wife remarked dubiously.
“She dare not,” was the reply. “From her we have nothing whatever to fear. As long as you keep up the appearance of deep mourning, are discreet in all your actions, and exercise proper caution on the occasions when we meet, our secret must remain hidden from all.”
“But I am doubtful of Ethelwynn. A woman as fondly in love with a man, as she is with Ralph, is apt to throw discretion to the winds,” the woman observed. “Recollect that the breach between them is on our account, and that a word from her could expose the whole thing, and at the same time bring back to her the man for whose lost love she is pining. It is because of that I am in constant fear.”
“Your apprehensions are entirely groundless,” he declared in a decisive voice. “She’s the only other person in the secret besides ourselves; but to betray us would be fatal to her.”
“She may consider that she has made sufficient self-sacrifice?”
“Then all the greater reason why she should remain silent. She has her reputation to lose by divulging.”
By his argument she appeared only half-convinced, for I saw upon her brow a heavy, thoughtful expression, similar to that I had noticed when sitting opposite her at dinner. The reason of her constant preoccupation was that she feared that her sister might give me the clue to her secret.