sorrow and regret, it was a letter in which I told her of mydejection and my inconsolable grief, yet expressing a bitter hope thather life might be happier in the future than mine would be, andexplaining the arrangements I proposed whereby she would have a fairincome, and Elveham to reside in as long as she wished.
More than once in the course of writing I was so overcome I could scarceproceed, and throwing down my pen was tempted to tear the letter up.But it was a duty; the last communication between myself and she who hadbeen dearest to me. I felt constrained to write on to the end, andappend my signature.
After carefully reading it through, I placed it in an envelope, andaddressed it to her, "to be opened after my departure."
The hours had crept on unnoticed; the servant had long ago come in forthe purpose of dusting the place, but, seeing me, had retired. Just asI had written the superscription on the envelope the door again opened,and I found myself face to face with Vera.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
A MYSTERY STILL.
I rose with a resolute determination that it should be our lastinterview.
"Why, Frank," she exclaimed, with well-feigned surprise, as sheadvanced, "you haven't been to bed, and--why, what's the matter, dear?"she added, noticing the expression of anger upon my countenance.
"You ought to know well enough," I replied sternly.
"How should I know?" she asked. "Why, the gas is still burning! Surelyyou've not been writing all night!"
"It seems your headache has left you," I exclaimed curtly, withoutanswering her question.
"Yes, I feel better this morning."
"In fact, the pain disappeared as soon as you left me last night, eh?"
"What!--what do you mean, Frank?" she asked anxiously, in a strangevoice, a sudden pallor overspreading her statuesque face.
"You plead ignorance; it is exactly what I expected. My meaning, Ishould have thought was pretty clear. You are not usually so dull."
"I do not understand you."
Her eyes wavered, she trembled with excitement, and I could see she wasbent upon concealing the truth. This increased my anger.
"It is a lie!" I said sharply. "You are trying to deceive me, but Iknow the truth at last."
"Deceiving you! Why, what have I done that you should accuse me in thismanner? Surely you are not yourself this morning?"
"You left me here writing last night, did you not?"
"Yes," she answered, gloomily.
"And thought that I was safe for a few hours, and would not keep an eyeupon your movements?"
"What has that to do with it?"
"Simply this. A couple of hours after you shammed illness and left me,I went out into the Dene, and there I saw--"
"There you saw me!" she cried wildly, swaying forward, and clutching atthe back of a chair for support. "_Dieu_! it is true, Frank; yes, true,I--I confess--I deceived you."
"Then you admit it!" I ejaculated, hardly believing my own ears.
"Yes; yes, I do," she moaned in tones of anguish. "But forgive me, andsay no more about the occurrence. It was unfortunate, and no harm hasbeen done."
I tried with difficulty to restrain my passionate indignation. Such acool request maddened me.
"Unfortunate?" I cried. "No; for me it is the reverse, for it hasopened my eyes to your faithlessness. Forgive you this! The thing'sabsurd!"
"I unfaithful!" she repeated, looking vacantly about her, and claspingher hands. "I never thought it could be misconstrued into that! Iunfaithful! Am I not your wife?" and with heaving breast and tearfuleyes she bent her head as if to avert my gaze.
"Yes; you are my wife, but she who brings dishonour upon her husband isunworthy that name," I said, in a tone of disgust.
"I have not brought you dishonour," she declared, drawing herself upwith dignity.
"You have, I tell you! Late last night you met a strange man in theDene, and that man is your lover!" I retorted, decisively.
"That I am to blame, Frank, I admit," she said, dashing the tears fromher eyes, "but he is not my lover. I swear you are mistaken. Nothingwas further from my thoughts."
"Oh, don't tell me that! I know enough of the world to distinguish themeaning of such clandestine meetings," I replied, sickened at the mannershe was endeavouring to clear herself.
"There is no love between us," she exclaimed; "but,"--and she paused.
"Then why meet him in such a secret manner?" I demanded, adding with asneer, "perhaps you will tell me next that it was not you I saw, but atwin sister."
She still hesitated, with her eyes cast down as if in thought.
"You can give no answer," I continued with warmth, "because you areguilty."
"Guilty only of meeting him," she said, drawing a deep breath: "but Iassure you there is no love between us--nay, I swear it--only a secrettie."
"I don't wish you to perjure yourself," I remarked coldly. "You `assureme'! What utter nonsense."
"I tell you the truth."
"You have told me so many falsehoods that a little truth is certainlyrefreshing!" I replied with sarcasm.
"I cannot force you to believe me," she continued in a low voice, stillsteadying herself by the chair.
"Do you think me such a confounded idiot, then, as to believe you couldhave business with a strange man at that hour of the night?"
"Business, nevertheless, was the object of our meeting."
"Bah! your excuses are positively intolerable. What was the nature ofthis business?"
"You must not know," she replied, hesitatingly.
Her brows contracted, and her tiny hands clenched tightly upon thechair-back, as if summoning all her courage to be firm.
"Ah! the old story. More mystery. Look here! I've had enough of it!"I shouted in anger. "In fact, I've had too much of it already, and Idemand an explanation, or you and I must part!"
A shudder ran through her slim frame as I spoke, and she lost hersupport and almost fell. With a sudden movement she pushed back themass of dark curls from her forehead, her bright eyes gleamed with anearnest fire as they met mine, and she said, hysterically, "You arecruel--you do not know how I suffer, for your surmise is not correct inthe smallest degree. You, my husband, I love, and no one else. And youaccuse me. _Mon Dieu_!"
My self-control was very nearly exhausted. If she had been a man Imight have struck her! As it was, I was powerless, and as I looked ather my eyes must have gleamed with fury.
"Last night proved the great extent of your love for me," I exclaimedfiercely.
All that latent fire which exists in every woman's nature, ready toburst into flame when her self-respect is wounded, was aglow in Vera asI uttered that retort.
"I cannot see that it did. I have done absolutely nothing of which I amashamed," was her answer.
She spoke with a cool, reckless candour that shocked me. My thoughtswere soured by disappointment.
"What!" I cried, "have you no compunction?"
"I am sorry it was my ill-luck to be seen by you, and thus cause youunnecessary pain."
"Oh, spare me your expressions of sorrow, pray," I said, in a hard tone."They are out of place."
"I had thought to keep his presence a secret," she continued in thatdead-calm voice, which was like some one speaking in a dream.
"If he were not your lover, why should you do that? Your own wordsprove your guilt?"
"Because I had reasons," she replied. "Reasons!" I repeated, mythoughts at once reverting to the piece of seal I had discovered."Strange reasons they must be, surely. What is his name?"
"It is nobody you know. You have never heard of him."
It was upon the tip of my tongue to denounce him as the perpetrator ofthe crime in Bedford Place, but with difficulty I restrained myself,and, impelled by the strangeness of her manner, demanded:
"Who is he? Answer me!"
"I am very sorry, Frank, but I cannot," she replied, her face deathlypale, and her limbs trembling with agitation.
"Then
you refuse to answer?" I cried, stung to the quick by her doggedpersistency.
"Yes; I must."
Her hands clasped, her teeth firmly set, her bloodless face tear-stainedand haggard, and her hair disordered, she stood rigidly beside the chairthat supported her, striving by an almost superhuman effort to suppressher emotion.
"Vera," I shouted fiercely, "it seems I've been fooled. Curse that manwho has brought misery and destruction to us both! By heaven if--"
"He is not to blame: it is I," she interrupted. "You shield him at